IT  IS  THE 


UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


SCHOOL  OF  LAW 
LIBRARY 


IT  IS  THE  LAW, 


A   STORY   OF 


MARRIAGE  AND  DIVORCE 


IN  NEW  YORK 


BY 

THOMAS   EDGAR    WILLSON. 


\KW  YORK  &  CHICAGO  : 

BELFOHD,  CJvAIJKi:  &  COMPANY, 


fl 


COPYRIGHTED,    1887.      ALL  BIGHTS   KESERVED. 


IT  IS  T  H  E  L  A  W. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  virtuous  woman  is  a  crown  to  her  husband, 

Prov.  xii.  4. 

u  MY  darling,  I  love  you  ;  passionately,  devotedly. 
Fly  with  me,  and  we  will  find  a  home  which  we  will 
make  a  paradise  on  earth.  My  love,  my  life,  with  you 
beside  me,  your  love  to  strengthen  me,  I  can  carve  out 
a  fortune  to  lay  at  your  feet.  You  love  me  even  as  I 
love  you.  Why  should  you  hesitate,  Mabelle  ?  " 

She  looked  into  the  frank  and  handsome  face,  plead- 
ing so  earnestly,  and  smiled  a  little  sadly  and  very 
sweetly,  as  she  answered  slowly  and  with  quaint  pauses 
between  each  sentence,  in  a  manner  all  her  own. 

"  No,  Dick ;  it  is  quite  useless  to  urge  anything  of 
that  kind ;  but  I  am  willing  to  listen  to  anything  you 
have  to  say.  The  speaker  is  one  and  the  listener  is  an- 
other ;  and  what  you  have  to  say  is  a  part  of  the  story 
we  are  making,  is  it  not  ?  Haven't  you  stronger  reasons 
to  urge.  Something  to  really  tempt  me,  Dick?  " 

"  Do  you  need  more,  Mabelle,  than  our  love  ?  Can  you 
not  desire,  even  as  I  do,  that  we  shall  be  all  in  all  to 
one  another — forgetting  the  world  and  by  the  world 
forgot.  Do  you  not  wish,  as  I  do,  that  the  world  held 
only  us  two,  and  no  more  ?  " 


6  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

She  shook  her  head  dreamily,  her  eyes  closed. 

"  You  would  not  kill  the  cook,  would  you,  Dick  ? 
Say  three,  dear,  or  four,  for  we  must  have  milk  and 
sugar,  and  I  will  say  yes."  There  was  not  a  suspicion 
of  chaff  in  the  sweet  far-away  voice. 

"  Sweetheart,  are  you  kind  to  me  ?  What  is  there  lack- 
ing in  me  or  my  love  ?  Tell  me  frankly.  I  never  had 
any  experience  before  this,  and  I  am  not  fluent  of 
speech  ;  but  credit  me  with  the  full  and  honest  love  of 
an  honest  man,  even  if  I  cannot  express  myself  eloquent- 
ly. Did  you  expect  more?  Do  you  want  more  ?  Is  not 
love  enough,  or  do  you  want  words  also  ?  " 

"  I  really  do  not  know.  It  is  not  a  bit  like  the  story- 
books, Dick.  There  the  lover  rehearses  for  weeks — it 
don't  say  so,  but  he  must — and  he  sweeps  the  poor  wife 
off  her  feet  with  his  burning  words  and  passionate 
pleadings,  and  she  loses  her  head,  and  consents  for  a 
few  minutes  to  do  .what  she  spends  the  remainder 
of  her  life  in  regretting.  You  haven't  rehearsed  a 
bit,  if  even  you  ever  thought  of  it  before ,'  you 
haven't  really  meant  a  word  you  said,  though  you 
may  have  done  as  well  as  any  one  in  real  life ', 
and  you  haven't  tempted  me  in  the  least  to  be 
wicked,  Dick,  when  I  really  wanted  to  be  tempted.  Not 
that  I  would  yield,  dear, — for  I  couldn't  be  swept  off 
my  feet ;  and  perhaps  the  fault  is  really  mine — but  I 
wanted  to  be  tempted  as  much  as  you  could  tempt  me, 
because  it's  so  horrible  to  be  good  just  because  you  must. 
I  want  to  feel  when  I  am  good  that  it  is  because  I 
choose  goodness.  If  I  have  no  choice  in  the  matter, 
and  must  be  good  or  must  be  wicked,  I  would  much 
prefer  that  the  must  should  be  wicked.  Don't  you  feel 
thut  way  sometimes,  Dick  ?  " 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  7 

Her  hand  had  been  laid  on  his  as  she  began,  and  it 
remained. 

She  was  sitting  on  the  stone  fence  of  the  little  lane  that 
leads  from  the  main  road  in  front  of  Charlie  Warren's  to 
the  branch  road  that  passes  by  Brookside,  which  her 
friend  Mrs.  Carter  hired  every  year  at  Coldspring.  Mrs. 
Smith  had  come  on  a  brief  visit  to  escape  the  racket  of 
the  Fourth  in  the  city,  and  Mrs.  Carter's  nephew  and 
she  were  returning  from  a  walk  over  to  the  farm-house. 

The  nearly  half-full  moon  shone  directly  through  the 
trees  upon  the  two  figures ;  but  on  that  lonely  road 
there  are  no  chance  passers  after  dusk,  and  it  was  now 
nearly  nine  o'clock. 

Where  there  are  none  to  molest  or  make  afraid,  the 
lover  is  ever  bold.  His  arm  passed  around  her  waist. 

l*  You  love  me,  Mabelle." 

She  loosed  her  imprisoned  hands  and  put  them  on  his 
cheeks,  turning  his  face  so  that  she  could  look  into  it. 
Then  she  answered  his  question  with  another. 

u  Why  does  it  give  me  pleasure  to  have  you  ask  the 
question  ?  and  why  does  it  give  you  pleasure  to  have 
me  say  so  ?  " 

For  reply,  he  bent  and  kissed  her  cheek  (accurately 
speaking,  her  ear,  for  she  turned  her  head),  and  she 
gently  put  him  away  ;  but  there  was  no  anger  in  her 
voice,  only  earnestness,  as  she  said  : 

"Do  not  spoil  my  happiness,  dear,  by  improprieties.  If 
you  do,  I  will  have  to  go  home  immediately.  And  I 
want  to  stay  here  with  you." 

He  kissed  her  hands,  to  which  there  was  no  objection, 
and  looked  down  at  the  slender  but  graceful  figure  just 
budding  into  womanhood.  She  was  not  more  than 
eighteen  at  the  most,  and  her  face,  clear-cut  and  spirit- 


8  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

ual,  had  a  sad  and  dreamy  loveliness  that  seemed  to  be- 
long to  some  other  life.  It  was  the  face  of  one  who  had 
suffered  and  struggled  and  conquered  and  grown  lovely 
from  the  combat.  In  place  of  the  boldness  and  self- 
reliance  so  usual  with  self-restraint  and  self-government, 
there  was  trust  and  doubt  and  a  wistful  tenderness. 
No  one  would  look  into  that  sympathetic,  refined  face 
for  jest  or  gibe  or  scoff.  Frankness  and  truth  and 
earnestness  were  unmistakably  impressed  upon  it,  and 
behind  these  were  slumbering  powers  of  will  and  strength 
of  mind  that  she  knew  nothing  of. 

"  And  I  wish  to  stay  with  you  always,  Mabelle.  This 
pleasure  that  you  have  learned  to  feel  can  grow,  even  as 
it  has  grown,  and  a  thousand  times  more.  Why  should 
we  feel  it  and  enjoy  it  for  a  few  brief  minutes  when  we 
can  have  it  our  whole  lives  long?" 

"  Love  dies  with  the  kiss,  my  Richard." 

"  Not  ours." 

"  Yes,  ours,  and  all  love, — love  for  man  or  love  for 
country,  for  humanity  or  for  ourselves.  All  is  but 

Waste  marigold  and  late  unhappy  leaves, 
And  grass  that  fades  ere  any  of  it  be  mown. 

The  garden  god's  bonds  are  the  very  lightest,  mere 
flax  and  tow,  burned  off  by  the  very  flame  that  passes 
from  heart  to  heart.  Deny  it  not,  Dick.  You  know 
it  to  be  true.  Face  the  truth  and  fear  not.  Truth  is 
a  sweet  mistress,  but  only  the  very  brave  may  serve 
her." 

The  moonlight,  her  face,  her  mood,  blended  perfectly. 
It  was  Proserpine  sitting  in  her  garden,  crowned  with 
calm  leaves,  talking  to  a  mortal  who  had  strayed  into 
Hades. 

He  sat  on  a  base  stone  and  leaned  his  head  against 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W,  9 

her  side.  Her  arm  fell  around  his  neck,  and  her  hand 
stroked  his  face. 

"  Mabelle,  I  want  you  for  my  own.  I  want  you  for 
a  wife.  As  I  cannot  have  you  legally,  I  want  you 
without  the  form.  It  will  make  no  difference  to  me 
what  technicalities  there  may  be.  I  will  be  your  true 
and  faithful  husband  while  life  lasts." 

"  But  it  will  make  a  great  difference  to  me,  Dick.  I 
am  an  honest  woman.  I  never  violated  a  law  or  com- 
mandment, and  so  long  as  I  live  I  never  will.  I  shall 
never  do  anything  that  will  bring  the  faintest  tinge  of 
shame  to  my  cheek,  or  give  any  one  reason  for  a  sneer. 
I  made  that  resolution  years  ago  ;  it  will  be  unbroken 
when  I  die." 

"  But,  my  darling,  we  cannot  continue  this  way  all 
our  lives  long  ?  " 

"  Why  not,  if  we  will  ?  " 

And  why  not?  The  question  confused  him. 

"  Suppose  we  elope,"  she  continued.  "  My  husband 
is  also  my  uncle  and  guardian.  For  nearly  three 
years,  until  I  am  twenty-one,  I  will  not  be  able  to 
get  a  cent  from  him.  You  have  very  little  more  than 
your  salary,  enough  to  pay  our  passage  to,  and  a  few 
weeks  board  where  we  are  unknown ;  but  you  have 
splendid  prospects  and  a  bright  career.  Among 
strangers,  penniless,  we  would  have  to  earn  our  bread 
as  best  we  could.  Your  life  would  be  destroyed  while  you 
remained  with  me.  My  sin  would  find  me  out,  and  I  would 
be  a  thing  of  scorn.  For  what,  Richard  ?  for  what  ?  Think 
a  moment.  I  am  an  old  married  woman.  I  have  been  six 
years  a  wife.  You  are  unmarried,  but — I  hope  that  you 
are  not  without  some  experience  in  the  master  passion  of 
humanity — I  will  talk  frankly  with  you.  You  know  that 


10  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

ill  a  week,  or  a  month,  at  the  most,  when  the  glamor  had 
passed  away,  you  would  regret  the  price  you  had  paid 
for  past  and  never-to-be-recalled  pleasure.  If  you  do  not 
know  it,  I  do.  I  am  now  satisfied  and  content  with  what 
I  have.  I  would  have  to  accept  disgrace  to  get  what  I  do 
not  want.  It  is  folly  to  wreck  our  lives  for  what  you 
would  value  for  a  week  or  two  only,  and  I  not  at  all. 
You  ask  me,  you  urge  me  to  elope,  because  you  think 
you  are  in  honor  bound  to  do  it,  because  it  is  recognize^ 
among  men  as  the  proper  course  to  pursue  under  the 
circumstances,  and  because  you  think  I  expect  you  to. 
Really  it  is  your  duty  to  do  so.  You  should  give  me  the 
privilege  of  flying  if  I  wish  disgrace.  But  you  feel 
secret  relief  when  I  decline  the  proposition  and  you 
know  that  I  certainly  mea,n  it.  You  appreciate  the  fact 
that  my  acceptance  would  put  you  to  the  greatest  em- 
barassment.  When  you  offer  the  price,  you  know  you 
are  paying  far  more  than  it  it  is  worth.  Do  not  deny 
it,  Dick.  Truth  is  a  sweet  mistress.  You  know  that 
what  I  say  are  her  words,  not  mine." 

"  But,  my  darling,  I  love  you,  passionately,  devotedly. 
If  I  did  not,  what  you  say  might  be  true.  I  cannot 
count  the  cost  and  weigh  every  chance,  in  cold  blood, 
because  I  have  no  cold  blood.  No  one  could  look  into 
your  eyes  and  have  a  single  drop  un warmed.  No  one 
could  for  half  a  minute  hold  you  closely  and  not  lose 
his  reason.  My  whole  being  cries  out  for  you.  I  love 
and  long  and  yearn.  It  is  the  madness  of  fever.  That 
is  the  Truth  that  I  must  face — and  you  also.  That  is 
love.  You  know  it.  To  hold  you  in  my  arms,  to  feel 
your  lips  clinging  to  mine,  your  heart  throbbing,  beat 
for  beat,  in  unison  with  mine,  to  know  if  even  for  one 
moment  that  you  are  not  another,  but  myself,  my  soul, 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  11 

I  would  at  this  instant  give  my  life.  It  may  be  un- 
wisdom, but  it  is  love.  It  may  be  that  in  after  years, 
if  my  life  were  spared  now  to  be  taken  then,  it  might 
be  dearer  than  it  is  now,  and  I  would  rue.  It  may  be 
that  a  week  or  a  month  afterward  I  might  regret  the 
price  paid  for  pleasures  past  and  gone.  But  that  is  the 
weakness  of  manhood  and  of  love.  It  is  true  of  all 
things  as  well  as  love.  To  die  like  those  whom  Carrier 
slew  is  all  there  is  in  life  worth  living.  Now,  to  do 
that,  I  too  would  at  this  moment  give  my  soul." 

There  was  a  ring  in  his  voice  that  thrilled  her.  Her 
eyes  shone  brighter.  For  the  first  time  this,  the  first 
love  of  her  life,  seemed  sweet — though  her  own  pulse 
beat  calmly  and  quietly,  and  no  vibration  of  her  own 
responded  to  his  wild  chords — except  in  the  faintest  of 
overtones. 

"  Suppose,  Dick,  that  you  could  have  me  for  your 
wife — your  legal,  honest  wife — for  three  months,  but  at 
the  end  of  that  time  our  marriage  was  to  cease  ;  that  I 
died ;  would  you  be  any  happier  than  if  we  were  never 
married?" 

"Yes,  unquestionably." 

"  Why  ?  I  do  not  see  how  you  or  I  could  possibly 
be  any  happier  than  we  are  now.  I  know  you  love  me. 
And  I  know  what  love  is.  You  love  me,  and  do  not 
know  what  love  is,  because  you  have  never  cared  to 
think  about  such  things.  I  have  thought  about  it  for 
years.  It  is  the  one  subject  of  all  true  women's 
thoughts.  This,  if  you  did  but  know  it,  my  lover,  is 
the  happiest  moment  of  all  our  shanti,  our  rest  in  love, 
when,  we  know  that  each  is  true  and  each  can  trust." 

"And  what  is  love,  Main-lie  ?" 

"Pursuit,  Dick;  action  for  the  mere  pleasure   of  the 


12  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

action,  whether  you  stalk  a  deer  or  stalk  a  woman — not 
'  the  motion  of  the  soul  that  tendeth  to  the  end,'  as  we 
were  taught  in  school.  It  was  a  bishop  who  said  so,  but 
he  was  only  partly  right — seeing  dimly  and  understand- 
ing vaguely.  There  is  no  love  without  unceasing 
action,  without  constant  pursuit.  Nellie  wondered  the 
other  day  why  Charles  Reade  called  one  of  his  heroes 
'  the  pursuer.'  It  is  because  the  lover  is  a  pursuer  while 
he  remains  a  lover,  and  ceases  to  be  the  one  when  he 
ceases  to  be  the  other.  You  wish  to  end  the  pursuit 
by  marriage.  That  would  end  your  love  for  me,  Dick, 
as  the  death  and  quartering  of  the  deer  would  end  your 
love  for  that  particular  hunt.  You  would  soon  be  ready 
to  hunt  another  deer — and  another  woman." 

"  Your  logic  is  at  fault,  Mabelle.  Shall  lovers  never 
marry  then,  that  love  may  abound?  Shall  women  keep 
their  lovers  always  at  arm's  length  that  they  may  ever 
be  pursued  and  never  caught,  in  order  to  keep  their 
love  ?  Is  this  your  philosophy  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  St.  Paul,  but  I  answer  your  paraphrase 
with  his  own,  '  God  forbid  ! '  Love  has  naught  to  do 
with  marriage.  It  is  a  brief  flame,  that  soon  burns  out. 
If  nurtured  wisely,  it  may  last  longer  than  if  it  be 
allowed  to  waste.  Cupid  is  to  marriage  what  John  the 
Baptist  is  to  our  religion — the  Forerunner;  he  who 
makes  its  paths  straight.  Marriage  should  be  a  matter 
of  affection  solely.  The  flame  of  love  burns  out  ;  but 
the  bond  of  affection  remains — sometimes.  The  wo- 
man or  man  who  looks  for  love  after  marriage  has  stop- 
ped the  pursuit,  after  Cupid  has  quenched  the  flame  of 
his  torch  and  gone,  is  disappointed.  Whose  fault  is 
it?  Let  them  look  for  affection,  and  recognize  what 
thinkers  in  all  ages  and  among  all  people  have  proven 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  13 

to  be  the  Truth,  that  there  can  be  no  love  in  marriage. 
They  pursue,  and  prefer  to  pursue,  the  ignis  fatuus  in 
the  bogs  of  error,  when  the  broad  straight  road  of 
truth  and  experience  before  them  is  lighted  by  electric- 
ity. When  man  and  woman  tire  of  love  ;  when  affection, 
which  is  lifelong  and  the  foundation  of  all  our  enduring 
personal  relations,  has  been  made,  by  the  flame  of  love 
which  has  brought  two  strange  hearts  together,  a  solid 
and  enduring  tie  between  them,  let  them  kiss  Cupid 
good-bye,  speed  the  parting  guest,  and  marry.  But  let 
them  never  expect  to  see  the  garden  god  again.  His 
mission  has  been  fulfilled.  He  has  brought  the  strang- 
ers together.  Association  has  produced  affection. 
Affection  has  resulted  in  marriage.  He  will  never 
return. 

"  But  our  love  will  not  grow  cold,  my  darling." 
"  You  will  never  die,  Richard  ?  Nor  I  ?  We  will  never 
lie  in  our  coffins  and  be  consigned  to  the  earth  ?  That 
our  love  is  brief,  that  it  will  burn  out  in  a  year  or  two, 
is  as  certain  as  that  you  and  I  will  die  in  a  century.  If, 
while  it  binds  us,  an  enduring  affection  grows  up 
between  us,  to  remain  when  it  has  gone,  it  will  be  well 
with  us.  But  we  can  hope  for  nothing  else.  No  life 
has  lasted  a  century ;  no  love  a  year.  Men  and  women 
sometimes  lag  superfluous  beyond  five  score,  and  love 
may  drag  itself  along  beyond  a  honeymoon,  but  the 
one  is  not  life  or  living,  nor  the  other  love  or  loving. 
Death  in  life  and  death  in  love  may  not  count.  When 
the  strong  soul  is  stricken  through  fleshly  pulses,  it  is  a 
fever  which  must  run  its  course  quickly." 

He  was  silent  and  she  continued,  her  quaint  pauses 
giving  her  words  the  effect  of  one  speaking  in  a  dream 
or  by  another  influence. 


14  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  Face  truth,  Dick.  This  is  the  reason  why  we  must 
not  '  fly.'  We  love.  But  our  love  will  burn  out.  It 
is  no  foundation  for  a  life  relationship.  Let  us  clasp 
hands  while  the  flame  lasts,  and  bid  one  another  farewell 
as  lovers,  before  the  ashes  are  cold." 

"  You  do  not  love  me,  Mabelle,  as  I  love  you,  or  you 
could  not  talk  so  logically  and  rationally." 

His  words  are  light  and  kind,  but  there  is  the  faintest 
tinge  of  bitterness  and- — truth. 

"You  are  not  a  coward,  Dick.  What  you  say  is 
perfectly  true.  Women  never  love,  or  rarely  love. 
Only  those  who  unsex  themselves,  like  Catherine  of 
Russia,  pursue  men  as  men  pursue  women — and  there 
is  no  love  without  pursuit.  Speaking  with  strict  ac- 
curacy and  generally,  only  men  love,  or  can  love. 
Women  do  not  love ;  they  are  loved." 

"  Yet  }7ou  said  a  little  while  ago  that  you  loved  me." 

"  That  was  speaking  after  the  manner  of  men,  that 
you  might  understand  me,  not  misunderstand  me. 
When  a  woman  says  she  loves  a  man,  she  does  not  mean 
what  he  means.  She  rejoices  in  the  love  ;  she  glories  in 
the  love.  She  may  in  a  totally  different  way  be  said  to 
pursue  him,  but  her  pursuit  will  be  mental  and  his 
physical.  There  is  no  action  and  therefore  no  love  in 
her  pursuit.  She  may  be  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice 
to  get  his  love.  She  may  treasure  it  above  rubies.  It 
may  be  all  the  world  to  her.  She  may  prefer  death  to 
losing  it.  But  she  has  no  love  for  him.  Her  apprecia- 
tion of  his  love  is  not  love,  any  more  than  my  feelings 
for  this  little  piece  of  ribbon  which  I  prize,  because  you 
once  had  it  and  gave  it  to  me,  are  themselves  a  physical 
ribbon.  I  say  I  love  it,  but  that  is  an  accepted  figure 
of  speech  and  paraphrase.  Love  is  the  mental  impres- 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  15 

sion  of  rational  action  whose  end  is  in  itself.  The  mental 
impression  of  an  emotion  or  sensation, — which  is  what 
the  woman  is  conscious  of  — is  not  love.  We  call  it 
love  for  want  of  a  better  name,  and  men  are  vexed 
because  it  does  not  produce  the  same  phenomena  as 
their  own." 

"  What  would  you  call  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  thought  enough  about  it.  I 
am  no  dialectician.  But  it  is  as  sweet  to  be  loved  as  it 
is  to  love.  Don't  misunderstand  that,  Dick.  If  the 
woman  is  passive,  the  man  active,  it  is  fate  which  as- 
signs their  parts  ;  and  the  one  is  as  happy  as  the  other 
in  playing  the  little  drama." 

"  And  is  this  why  women  are  so  cold,  and  men  so 
warm  ?  " 

"In  part.  I  am  happy  in  your  love,  and  in  every 
changing  phase  of  it.  Even  when  you  ask  me  to  do 
evil,  the  hearing  is  pleasant  and  sweet,  and  my  refusal 
pain.  I  would  deny  you  nothing,  if  I  could  help  it,  for 
your  sake.  I  am  happy  and  content  with  what  I  have 
that  is  not  forbidden.  It  is  so  much." 

"But,  my  darling,  I  cannot  be  content  with  what 
contents  you." 

"  If  you  could,  you  would  not  love  me.  You  are  a 
man,  I  a  woman.  The  difference  lies  between  loving 
and  being  loved." 

"  Did  you  mean,  by  being  my  wife  for  three  months, 
and  then  dying  or  parting,  that  our  love  would  only 
last  that  time,  or  was  it  merely  a  chance  remark  ?  " 

"  I  meant  that  and  I  meant  more.  I  was  thinking  of 
something  else.  My  thoughts  are  wandering  everywhere 
to-night." 

"  I  will  not  deny  your  logic ;  I  will  face  Truth.    Will 

you?" 


16  ir  IS  THE  LAW. 

•'  I  never  feared  to.  Behind  her  frown  she  hides  a 
smile.  She  is  the  only  true  Providence." 

"You  have  been  reading  St.  Chrysostom.  'Where  I 
found  the  Truth  there  I  found  my  God.'  I  can  furnish 
you  with  better  reading — by  Bertha  M.  Clay.  Now  listen 
to  me.  Your  hand  clings  to  mine.  What  does  it  mean  ?" 

"  Love,"  she  replied.  "  That  you  love  and  I  am  loved." 

"  And  love  means  clinging  lips  also." 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  sin." 

"  Why  the  one  more  than  the  other?" 

"  Because  the  law  makes  it  so.  Not  statute  law  in 
this  case,  but  common  law,  the  world's  code.  Without 
law,  there  is  no  sin." 

"  And  only  the  law  restrains  you  from  giving  me  your 
lips  as  freely  as  your  hand? " 

"  Only  the  law.     What  else  could  or  should  ? 

"  Now,  by  St  Paul !  "  he  cried  passionately,  "  and  am 
I  never  to  hold  you  in  my  arms  ;  never  to  feel  your  heart 
against  mine  ;  never  to  have  you  for  my  own  for  even  an 
hour?  Is  my  love  to  be  stifled,  choked,  beaten  down, 
because  this  ancient  fetish  called  Law  says  we  must  not. 
Will  you  not  release  yourself  for  a  day,  for  an  hour,  from 
this  bondage  of  law,  and  stand  erect  and  free  ?  '* 

"  Never  while  life  lasts." 

There  was  not  the  slightest  doubt  possible  that  the 
low,  even,  almost  careless  words  were  merely  the  state- 
ment of  a  fact  which  nothing  could  overthrow. 

"  Dick,  dear,  don't  you  know  that  women  are  born 
slaves.  We  are  never  born  free.  We  have  no  desire 
for  freedom.  Why  do  we  weac  rings  and  bracelets? 
Did  you  ever  see  a  woman  who  did  not  wear  them? 
and  yet  what  are  they  the  symbols  of  but  slavery  ?  If  we 
cannot  get  the  substance  we  get  the  shadow,  and  if  we 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  17 

cannot  find  a  master  we  make  one.  All  good  women 
now  recognize  the  Law  as  theirs.  It  is  high  fashion." 
She  laughed  lightly. 

Dick  pulled  up  a  bush  and  whipped  the  stone  wall 
savagely. 

"  Sit  down  here,  Dick,  and  talk  to  me.  Answer  me 
some  questions.  Why  do  you  wish  me  to  break  the 
law  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  There  is  no  reason.  Yes,  there  is,  but  I  never 
thought  of  it.  It  is  to  silence  fear.  I  hope  you  love 
me.  But  I  cannot  hope  you  do  without  fearing  you  do 
not.  It  is  to  justify  hope,  to  cast  out  fear,  to  make 
knowledge.  If  you  were  my  wife  for  an  hour  I  would 
know  you  loved  me.  You  would  not  be  unless  you  did. 
It  is  the  last  and  final  test  of  love.  According  to  your 
own  theory,  it  is  the  death-bed  promise  and  pledge.  If 
I  lost  you  after  that  time,  there  would  be  no  gall  of  doubt 
mingled  with  the  bitterness  of  loss.  To  lose  you,  with- 
out that  torturing  doubt  removed,  would  be  to  have  it  last 
forever ;  to  have  its  taste  in  every  memory." 

"  And  how  would  you  know  any  better  then  than  now  ? 
Is  the  death-bed  confession  more  to  be  trusted  than  that 
given  in  full  health?  " 

"  Because  Love  is  the  blending  of  two  souls,  and 
Marriage  is  the  rude  physical  manifestation  of  the  in- 
ward and  spiritual  union — the  only  test  we  have.  Here 
i-;  my  right  hand  and  here  my  left.  If  the  one  clasps  the 
other,  is  there  any  mental  shock  ?  Touch  this  rock  with 
one.  Now  with  the  other.  The  impression  is  the  same 
in  each  case.  There  are  not  two  thoughts,  but  only  one 
thought.  The  harmony  shows  they  are  branches  of  one 
soul.  There  is  but  one  mental  impression  for  either.  It 
is  so  in  all  things.  Now  carry  out  the  simile.  I  took  your 


18  IT  IS  THE  LA  }}'. 

hand  a  month  ago  and  you  withdrew  it.  Why?  Becaus  • 
it  produced  two  different  mental  impressions,  showing 
our  two  souls  were  not  one,  and  yours  flamed  up  in  alarm 
when  mine  was  unconscious.  Now  your  hand  seeks 
mine  unconsciously.  Why?  Because  our  souls  are  unit- 
ing— not  wholly  united  yet,  because  yours  takes  alarm  at 
anything  else.  This  is  why  the  lover  craves  favor  after 
favor,  to  satisfy  himself  of  that  inward  and  spiritual 
union  ;  and  he  is  not  satisfied  until  every  possible  test 
has  been  applied,  and  until  the  other  soul  never  notices 
what  his  own  would  not  by  and  of  itself.  This  is  why 
Love  seeks  Marriage,  without  regard  to  what  marriage  has 
been  made,  and  without  regard. to  what  it  should  be,  be- 
cause marriage  is  the  final  test  of  all.  It  is  this  moral  doubt, 
this  inability  to  prove  the  mind  of  the  loved  one  in  any 
other  way,  that  makes  the  lover  seek  physical  manifesta- 
tions to  prove  the  spiritual  blending.  I  cannot  make 
myself  clear,  perhaps,  because  the  thought  is  new  to 
me,  but  you  can  catch  the  idea." 

"  And  would  it  satisfy  you  to  have  me  for  your  law- 
ful wife  for  three  months  ?  " 

"  Do  not  hold  such  happiness  before  my  eyes  to  take 
it  away." 

"  You  have  never  asked  me  to  be  your  lawful  wife, 
Richard.  "  There  was  no  reproach  in  the  voice.  It 
was  an  observation  made  more  to  herself  than  to  him. 

"  But  you  are  married !  "  He  had  taken  it  as  a 
reproach,  and  it  had  cut  deeply.  He  was  confused  and 
bewildered. 

She  smiled  a  little  sadly 

A  light  came  over  his  face.  "  My  darling,  my  dar- 
ling," he  broke  out  passionately,  and  with  a  fire  and 
earnestness  that  were  straight  from  his  heart,  "  forgive 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  10 

me  !  forgive  me !  Will  you  be  my  honest,  lawful,  and 
true  wife  ?  Will  you  break  the  bonds  that  now  bind  you, 
and  give  me  hope  to  call  you  mine  when  I  may,  before 
the  world  ?  " 

She  drew  his  head  against  her  breast  and  kissed  his 
forehead. 

"  It  would  be  perfectly  possible  for  me  to  be  your 
lawful  and  true  wife  for  one  month,  or  three  months,  if 
I  wished,  or  while  our  love  lasted — while  you  still  had 
pleasure  in  pursuing  me.  But  if  I  should  consent  it 
would  be  upon  two  conditions." 

"  I  accept  any  conditions  ;  what  are  they  ?  " 

"  The  first,  that  you  would  not  promulgate  our 
marriage  to  the  world,  to  cause  talk  and  arouse  curiosity, 
and  only  announce  it  to  those  who  have  a  right  to  know 
it,  in  order  to  stop  scandal." 

"  Certainly.    Your  wishes  shall  be  my  law." 

"  The  second,  that  you  will  not  ask  me  to  break  my 
present  marriage  bonds  with  my  husband." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  he  exclaimed,  in  aston- 
ishment and  confusion.  "  How  else  can  you  be  my 
lawful  wife  ?  " 

"  I  can  be  your  lawful  wife  in  any  State  in  the  Union 
within  forty-eight  hours,  without  ceasing  to  be  my 
uncle's  wife,  without  giving  him  the  slightest  cause  to 
object  to  anything  I  may  do,  without  giving  anyproper 
excuse  or  protext  for  scandal.'' 

"  You  can  ?" 

"  Yes ;  do  you  regret  your  hasty  words  ?  " 

He  kissed  her  fingers. 

"  Now  tell  me  how  this  miracle  may  be  wrought." 

"  Before  I  do,  I  want  to  call  your  attention  to  one 
fact.  If  you  should  marry  me,  I  should  be  your  wife 


20  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

for  only  a  short  time.  More  than  that,  I  shall  have 
another  husband  of  whom  you  must  not  be  jealous. 
When  we  part,  I  shall  still  have  him  ;  but  you  will  have 
no  other  wife.  You  will  be  a  married  man,  and  inca- 
pable of  marrying  again  without  the  expense  of  a  divorce. 
Think  over  it." 

"  I  accept  the  conditions  gladly.  Tell  me  how  this 
wonder  may  come." 

"  As  a  matter  of  precaution,  and  thinking  it  might 
some  day  be  useful,  when  I  was  in  Chicago  two  years 
ago,  I  obtained  a  divorce  from  William,  which  is 
perfectly  valid  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  but  not  valid  in 
this  State.  I  am  legally  and  morally  free  to  marry  in 
the  State  of  Illinois,  and  such  a  marriage  would  be  both 
lawful  and  morally  binding  in  every  State  in  the  Union. 
No  court  in  this  state  would  have  a  right  to  question  *  its 
validity  ;  no  individual  a  right  to  question  its  pro- 
priety. This  divorce  does-  not  affect  in  any  way  my 
marriage  to  William,  except  in  Illinois,  f  It  gives  me  a 

*  "  Where  a  marriage  is  valid  by  the  laws  of  another  state, its  validity 
cannot  be  questioned  in  this  slate.  Thus,  even  if  persons  who  can- 
not legally  marry  in  this  state  go  to  another  state,  the  laws  of  which 
permit  them  to  marry,  and  marry  there,  such  marriage  is  valid  in 
this  state."  Court  of  Appeals,  June,  1883,  Moore  vs.  Hayeman,  92 
N.  Y.,p.  526. 

if  either  party  has  contracted  a  previous  marriage  valid  in  this 
state,  both  marriages  are  valid,  and  the  party  has  two  lawful  wives 
(or  husbands). 

t  "  A  coiirt  of  another  state  has  no  jurisdiction  to  dissolve  the 
marriage  of  a  citizen  of  this  state,  domiciled  here,  who  is  not  served 
with  process  in  the  foreign  state  and  who  does  not  appear  in  the 
action."  Court  of  Appeals,  1880,  Peo.  v.  Baker,  76  N.  Y.  78. 

Same  decision,  Supreme  Court,  1882,  Peo.  v.  Chase,  27  Hun., 
256. 

A  marriage  contract  made  in  this  state  remains  in  full  force  and 
effect  during  the  lifetime  of  the  parties,  no  matter  how  many  divorces 


IT  Ifi  THE  LAW.  21 

legal  and  a  moral  right,  in  every  state  in  the  Union 
except  two,  to  two  or  more  lawful  husbands,  provided 
I  marry  them  in  the  way  prescribed  by  law." 

"  Does  Smith  know  of  it  ?  ' 

"  Certainly  not,  and  I  do  not  wish  him  to  know  it  at 
present.  I  came  very  near  having  to  reveal  it  to  him 
last  spring,  when  we  visited  his  aunt's  in  Chicago.  Of 
course  I  would  not  let  him  kiss  me  while  in  the  State  of 
Illinois,  and  I  had  to  manoeuvre  to  keep  from  being 
left  alone  with  him  during  our  stay.  If  I  had  not  suc- 
ceeded I  should  have  had  to  explain  the  matter  to  him. 
He  was  not  my  husband  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  although 
he  was  my  husband  in  every  other  State  of  the  Union 
except  New  Hampshire."  * 

"  But  did  you  not  dissemble  at  all?" 

"  I  am  an  honest,  proper,  and  law-abiding  woman, 
Dick.  It  would  have  been  as  wicked  with  him  there 
as  with  you  here  to  give  any  stranger  occasion  to  think 
I  was  his  wife,  when  I  was  not." 

"  And  when  may  I  marry  you  ?  When  may  I  be- 
come your  second  lawful  husband?"  If  he  had  been 
taking  a  nap  in  an  ice-house  he  could  not  have  had  a 
worse  chill. 

"  I  am  going  to  Chicago,  Thursday,  for  a  week  or  ten 
days."  It  is  not  an  answer  to  his  question,  and  he  puts 
it  in  a  different  form. 

"If  I  come  on,  will  you  marry  me  there?  "  He  felt 
he  had  to  say  it.  It  was  worse  than  asking  her  to 
"fly,"  for  she  was  certain  to  say  yes  to  this.  But 
she  did  not. 

may  have  been  obtained  in  foreign  states,  provided  that  no  court  in 
any  foreign  state  had  at  one  time  jurisdiction  over  both  the  parties 
and  the  subject-matter. 

*  X«-\v  Hampshire  acivpls  nil  rr^-i'nr   'ivnrcvs  us  valid. 


22  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  answer  such  a  question  here, 
Dick,"  she  replies  with  a  little  laugh.  "  You  have  no 
thought  for  the  proprieties  of  life.  Here,  I  am  a 
married  woman.  There,  I  am  femme  sole,  free  to  marry. 
You  must  wait  for  my  reply  until  I  am  in  Illinois." 

Yet,  for  all  that,  he  has  no  doubt  of  what  the  answer 
will  be. 

"  Suppose  your  husband  finds  out  you  have  married 
me,  what  will  he  say  or  do  ?  " 

"You  assume  too  much,  Richard;  but,  if  I  should,  he 
may  say  or  do  nothing.  It  is  none  of  his  business.  I 
am  quite  within  my  legal  rights.*  He  has  another  legal 
wife.  I  had  been  four  years  married  before  I  found  it 
out.  He  may  find  out  for  himself  that  I  have  another 
legal  husband — when  I  take  one." 

"  You  are  the  same  as  my  affianced  wife.  We  are  to 
be  married  within  ten  days.  Yet  you  have  never 
kissed  me  or  let  me  kiss  you.  Will  you  not  give  me 
your  lips,  Mabelle  ?  Our  love  stands  confessed,  with 
lawful  marriage  to  follow." 

She  puts  him  away  with  firmness. 

"  No,  Richard,  I  have  no  right  to.  I  do  not  know 
that  Mrs.  Grundy  has  ever  given  out  a  decision  of 
the  proper  course  to  pursue  or  the  etiquette  to  be 
observed,  but  I  do  know  that  with  a  careful  construction 

*  Though  a  woman  should  in  this  manner  marry  half-a-dozeu  men 
secretly,  and  live  with  them  in  turn,  no  action  for  divorce  would  lie. 
Her  relations  with  each  one  would  be  lawful.  Each  one  of  the  men 
would  be  her  lawful  husband,  and  she  would  commit  no  offense  at 
which  a  husband  could  take  exception.  A  husband  may  lawfully  set 
up  a  harem,  or  a  wife  may  lawfully  set  up  an  andron.  Either  one 
would  be  entirely  within  the  limits  of  the  law,  and  in  every  respect 
guarded  by  its'  majesty  and  might,  if  the  harem  or  andron  were  made 
iu  the  manner  prescribed. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  23 

of  the  code  it  should  be  forbidden  under  the  circum- 
stances. You  must  wait  until  we  meet  in  Illinois." 

"  You  cannot  refuse  me  there  ?  " 

"There  it  would  be  right  and  proper,  for  I  am  a 
single  woman  in  the  State  of  Illinois,"  she  replies,  frankly 
and  shyly;  "but  here  I  am  a  married  woman,  with  a 
husband's  honor  to  watch  and  guard.  Should  WQ  be 
married  in  Illinois,  you  would  be  my  husband  there — 
the  only  husband  I  could  have  there — and  I  would 
guard  your  honor  there  as  carefully  as  I  guard  William's 
here.  We  must  go  home  ;  it  is  getting  late." 

"  Are  you  sure  of  your  ground  ?  "  he  asks,  as  they  walk 
along,  hand  in  hand. 

"  Yes,"  she  replies  confidently,  "  I  am  sure  of  it.  It 
is  the  law." 


24  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  II. 

For  why  shouldst  thou,  my  son,  go  astray  with  a  strange  woman, 
And  embrace  the  bosom  of  a  stranger. — Prov.  v.  20. 

THE  lawn  at  Brookside  is  too  thickly  studded  with 
gigantic  cedars  to  permit  more  than  a  stray  glint  of 
sunshine  or  moonshine  to  ever  reach  the  soft  carpeting 
of  needles  that  covers  it,  or  to  fall  across  the  hammocks, 
of  which  there  are  over  a  dozen  inviting  rest  and 
dreams. 

Mrs.  Carter  rises  from  one,  as  she  hears  the  crunch 
upon  the  gravel  of  the  returning  footsteps,  and  walks 
forward  to  the  low,  wooden  fence,  where  the  light  falls 
full  upon  her,  making  a  very  pretty  picture  as  she  stands 
waiting.  She  is  seven-and-twenty,  in  the  perfect  full- 
ness of  womanhood,  tall  and  fair,  with  a  sweet  matronly 
look  upon  the  high-bred  face  that  the  moonlight 
softens  into  a  beauty  of  the  heart  that  is  almost  divine. 
She  is  dressed  in  white,  even  to  the  nubia  that  is  rest- 
ing lightly  on  her  hair,  and  the  moonbeams  glint  and 
dance  around  her  as  a  waving  bough  intercepts  them 
from  moment  to  moment. 

"  Spare  our  lives,  O  ghost  !  "  calls  Dick  cheerily. 

4  How  late  you  are !  The  Warrens  always  go  to  bed 
with  the  birds,  and  you  have  either  thrown  their  whole 
household  out  of  gear,  or  you  have  been  love-making. 
On  second  thought,  I  think — " 

"Well?  "     Dick  blushes  like  a  schoolboy. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  25 

"That  our  rnilk  will  come  at  the  regular  time." 
Something  in  the  voice,  some  faint  discord,  shows  that 
it  is  out  of  tune. 

"  Where  is  Gypsy  ?  The  children  ?  " 

"  The  children  were  in  bed  before  dark.  Yesterday  was 
too  much  for  them.  Gypsy  went  up  to  her  room  an 
hour  ago,  and  I  have  been  lying  in  the  hammock  ever 
since,  mooning,  while  you  have  been — 

"Spooning,"  Dick  good-naturedly  says  for  her,  as 
she  hesitates  to  catch  the  exact  word.  "  You  couldn't 
use  such  slang,  Mimi,  even  if  you  wanted  to,  could 
you?" 

He  passes  his  arm  around  her  and  draws  her  closely 
to  him,  kissing  her.  She  looks  up  at  his  face  with  eyes 
filled  with  trouble,  saying  nothing. 

"  Are  you  tired,  Mimi  ?  "  he  asks,  with  a  tenderness 
that  is  as  natural  as  to  breathe. 

"  No,"  she  replies,  a  little  wearily.  "  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  been  drinking  many  cups  of  strong  tea,  and  could 
not  sleep.  How  do  you  feel,  Belle  ?  Is  it  not  too  lovely 
here  to  think  of  pillows  and  dreams  ?" 

"  Indeed  it  is.  I  have  been  watching  the  light  on 
the  Crow's  Nest  and  the  silver  glory  on  Bull  Hill — and 
talking  nonsense  to  Dick — until  these  shadows,  with 
the  little  pencils  of  light,  are  positively  delicious  in  their 
contrast.  You  can  take  one  end  of  this  hammock  and  I 
will  take  the  other.  Dick,  you  take  the  next,  but  don't 
swing  this  one." 

Dick  tucks  in  their  dresses,  arranges  their  pillows, 
and  makes  them  comfortable.  It  is  plain  that  he  knows 
how — a  rare  knowledge — and  is  thoroughly  drilled  in 
such  little  attentions. 

••  What,  a  delight  it  is  up  here,  where  at  midnight  the 


26  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

grass  and  ground  areas  dry  as  at  midday  !"   Mrs.  Carter 
exclaims,  after  a  silence. 

"  I  feel  very  dry,"  Dick  remarks. 

"  The  beer  is  in  the  angle  of  the  porch  in  a  tub  of  ice. 
Bring  Belle  a  bottle  of  the  Toledo  and  me  a.  bottle  of 
pilsener.  The  pilsener  is  corked,  and  the  corkscrew  is 
hanging  over  the  tub." 

"  Beer  is  a  nice  drink  for  a  healthy  man  !  "  His  scorn 
is  playful,  not  earnest. 

"  There's  ginger  ale  and  Apollinaris  water  and  a 
siphon  of  Vichy  I  put  in  there  for  you." 

"  Thanks,  Mimi.  You  are  mother  and  aunt,  and 
you  ought  to  have  been  my  grandmother  too.  You 
are  all  three  rolled  into  one." 

Her  anxious  eyes  follow  him  until  he  turns  the 
corner. 

"  You  ought  to  he  his  wife  too,  Nellie;  then  his  cup 
of  happiness  would  be  full." 

There  was  a  little  laugh  at  the  end,  but  there  was  a 
meaning  in  the  words  which  Mrs  Carter  either  did  not 
understand  or  ignored.  Perhaps  she  thought  it  was  a 
twinge  of  jealousy,  for  she  answered  quietly : 

"  He  is  more  my  son  than  my  nephew.  I  took  him 
in  my  arms  at  my  dead  sister's  burial,  twelve  years  ago, 
and  soothed  and  quieted  his  grief.  He  sobbed  himself 
to  sleep  in  my  arms,  and  as  I  sat  and  held  him,  all  the 
mother  love  came  to  me,  and  from  then  till  now  he  has 
been  my  first-born,  my  Judah." 

"•  That's  no  reason  why  you  should  not  be  his  wife, 
my  dear,  if  you  wanted  to.  It  seems  the  best  of  reasons 
why  you  should  have  married  him  when  he  grew  up." 

"  Belle  !  " 

"  Why  should  you  be  so  shocked  ?     Why  should  he 


IT  IS  THE  LA  FF.  27 

not  many  his  mother's  sister?  Did  I  not  marry  my 
mother's  brother?  Was  there  any  reason  why  I  should 
not,  except  that  I  did  not  want  to,  and  my  wishes  did 
not  amount  to  anything.?" 

"  I  did  not  think  of  your  marriage  when  I  spoke ;  but 
was  it  lawful  ?  I  thought  such  a  marriage  was  illegal." 
A  strange  confusion  filled  her,  and  her  voice  was  a  trifle 
unsteady.  What  it  meant  she  had  no  idea.  She  did 
not  recognize  the  temptation  that  had  suddenly  come  to 
her. 

"  Illegal  ?  Certainly  not.  It  is  perfectly  lawful  and 
proper  for  an  uncle  to  love  and  marry  a  niece,  or  for  an 
aunt  to  love  and  marry  a  nephew.  So  far  as  love  and 
marriage  are  concerned,  they  are  as  far  apart  as  forty- 
second  cousins  through  Adam.*  See  what  a  load  Dick 
is  bringing!  Are  you  strictly  temperance,  Dick  ?  Do  you 
never  look  upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red  or  the  beer 
when  it  is  foam  ?  'r 

"  I  don't  believe  in  '  temperance'  as  it  is  called  ;  but  I 
never  drink  anything  stronger  than  water  or  tea.  I  would 
not  hesitate  to  take  a  tumbler-full  of  rum  if  I  should  get 
wet  in  a  rainstorm,  or  a  quart  of  whiskey  if  a  snake 
should  bite  me;  but  as  for  drinking  it  for  pleasure,  I 
would  much  prefer  peppermint  or  paregoric.  I  am  ex- 
traordinarily fond  of  them,  and  I  like  port-wine  and 

*  This  is  the  law  in  New  York  ;  but  the  courts  have  taken  it  upon 
themselves,  so  far  as  possible,  to  discourage  such  marriages  by  dismiss- 
ing suits  for  breach  of  promise  brought  by  aunt  against  nephew  or 
niece  against  uncle.  As  it  stands  now,  the  marriage  is  perfectly  law- 
ful, but  damages  cannot  be  obtained  for  breach  of  promise  when  one 
party  jilts  the  other. 

The  marriage  of  first  cousins  is  forbidden  in  Arkansas,  Dakota, 
Indiana,  Kansas,  Montana,  Nevada,  New  Mexico,  Ohio,  Washington 
and  Wyoming.  In  some  others  such  a  marriage  is  void. 


28  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

rum  ;  but  they  are  all  medicines,  to  be  used  as  medicines. 
Mrs.  Parker  drinks  laudanum,  and  lots  of  women  use 
valerian,  chloral,  and  other  dangerous  drugs,  mainly  to 
promote  sleep,  just  because  a  few  lunatics  have  taken  a 
prejudice  against  a  harmless  sedative  made  from  hops — 
a  medicine  called  beer.  But  I  need  no  sedative.  I  can 
sleep  the  sleep  of  the  just  as  soon  as  my  head  touches  a 
pillow.  I  will  take  a  little  wine  for  my  stomach's  sake 
when  it  gets  old,  or  if  I  get  sick  and  it  is  feeble.  The 
temperance  lunatics  are  simply  engaged  in  the  work  of 
making  drunkards,  by  setting  up  ridiculous  standards, 
lying  about  '  liquor  ';  and  rendering  nugatory  the  work 
of  sensible  men." 

"  I  drink  beer  because  I  like  it  to  drink." 

"  Mi  mi  caught  me  mixing  up  some  paregoric  not  long 
ago.  I  wanted  to  drink  it  because  I  liked  it  to  drink. 
•Is  that  a  reason  why  paregoric  should  not  be  sold,  or 
why  it  should  be  denounced  as  a  curse  ?" 

"  Then  there's  no  mock  virtue  in  your  abstinence  ?  " 

"  Not  the  slightest.  Merely  common-sense.  Have 
another  drink  ?  " 

Mrs.  Carter  has  been  silent,  paying  no  attention  to 
the  conversation.  As  Belle  hands  Dick  her  glass,  she 
says : 

"  Would  you  tell  us,  dear,  how  you  came  to  marry 
your  uncle  ?  Have  you  any  objection  ?  " 

"  None  whatever.  There  is  no  story  about  it,  except 
of  the  Jack-a-Nory  kind."  She  paused  a  moment ;  then 
continued :  "  I  was  twelve  years  and  one  month  old 
when  my  mother  died.  Uncle  Will  came  to  see  us  the 
week  before.  My  mother  was  not  perfectly  clear  in  her 
mind,  and  her  insane  point  was  that  I  was  to  be  a  rich 
woman,  and  that  some  devil  would  marry  me.  Uncle 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  29 

Will,  to  soothe  her,  said  he  would  marry  me  himself. 
She  took  this  up,  and  insisted  upon  his  doing  it  then 
and  there.  He  did  not  hesitate  about  it,  but  I  did.  I 
vowed  I  wouldn't  marry  Uncle  Will ;  but  they  sent  for 
a  clergyman,  paying  no  attention  to  me. 

"  The  clergyman  asked  me  how  old  I  was,  and  when 
I  said  '  twelve,'  he  told  them  that  it  was  a  crime  for  him 
to  marry  a  girl  under  fourteen ;  that  I  was  old  enough 
to  be  married,  but  that  all  marriages  between  the  ages 
of  twelve  and  fourteen  should  be  by  '  publication  and 
proclamation.'  The  marriage  would  be  legal  if  he  per- 
formed it,  but  he  could  be  punished  for  officiating,  and 
he  declined  to  do  it.* 

"  Then  they  sent  for  a  lawyer.  He  drew  up  a  mar- 
riage contract,  which  I  refused  to  sign.  He  told  me 
before  he  went  away  that  I  could  have  the  marriage  set 
aside  when  I  should  be  fourteen,  as  my  mother  had 
signed  for  me.  This  I  found  out  was  a  mistake.  Law- 
yers usually  make  mistakes  in  such  matters. 

"  Uncle  Will  was  so  good  the  week  my  mother  died, 
that  I  forgot  all  about  my  opposition  to  the  marriage, 

*  This  curious  anomaly  comes  from  the  fact  that  the  legal  age  of  a 
woman  to  marry  (12)  was  fixed  by  the  common  law,  and  her  legal  age  to 
give  consent  (14)  was  regulated  by  the  statute  law.  All  the  provisions 
of  the  statute  in  relation  to  marriage  apply  naturally  to  one  capable 
of  giving  consent,  one  over  fourteen  (sixteen  since  Feb.  21,  1887), 
leaving  the  two  years  (four  years  now)  when  she  has  no  voice  in  the 
matter  unprovided  for  so  far  as  ceremony,  forms,  and  registration  are 
concerned.  As  these  are  not  a  part  of  marriages  by  proclamation,  the 
latter  method  must  be  resorted  to  when  the  girl  is  under  the  age  of  con- 
sent, if  the  clergyman  or  magistrate  will  not  risk  the  punishment.  The 
age  of  civil  consent,  until  Feb.  21,  1887,  was  fourteen.  Until  June  24, 
|s>7.  the  age  of  criminal  consent  was  by  statute  ten  years,  so  that  for 
four  years  a  girl  might  consent  to  be  a  man's  mistress,  but  could  not 
con-ient  to  be  his  wife.  The  amendments  of  1887  make  the  age  uni- 
formly sixteen. 


30  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

and  grew  quite  reconciled  to  it.  In  fact  I  forgot  all 
about  the  paper  that -had  been  signed.  I  hadn't  the 
faintest  conception  of  what  marriage  meant.  I  was 
quite  small  for  my  age,  and  the  day  of  the  funeral  I 
jumped  from  dresses  to  my  knees  to  dresses  to  my  heels. 
After  the  burial  he  took  me  on  a  wedding  tour  to  Niag- 
ara -and  up  the  lakes,  and  when  he  brought  me  back  to 
New  York  and  put  me  in  a  boarding-school  I  think  I 
hated  him  as  a  woman  never  hated  a  man  before. 

"  When  I  was  thirteen  I  spent  my  vacation  with  Anne 
Henderson — Mrs.  Sturgis.  I  told  Mrs.  Henderson,  and 
she  told  her  husband.  He  is  of  the  law  firm  of  Abbott, 
Henderson  &  Hall.  On  my  fourteenth  birthday,  * 
the  firm  made  application  to  the  court  to  have  my  mar- 
riage set  aside  on  the  ground  that  it  was  contracted 
against  my  will.  The  court  refused  to  interfere  on  the 
ground,  (1),  that  I  was  of  lawful  age  for  marriage 
(twelve  years)  ;  (2),  that  not  being  of  the  age  of  lawful 
consent  (fourteen),  my  consent  or  non-consent  could  not 
be  given  by  myself,  but'  was  vested  in  my  mother,  who 

*  Section  1742.  An  action  maybe  maintained  by  the  woman  to  pro- 
cure a  judgment  declaring  a  marriage  contract  void,  and  annulling  the 
marriage  under  the  following  circumstances  :  1.  Where  the  plaintiff 
had  :sot  attained  the  age  of  fourteen  years  at  the  time  of  the  marriage; 
'2.  Where  the  marriage  took  place  without  the  consent  of  her  father, 
mother,  guardian,  or  other  person  having  legal  charge  of  her  person; 
3.  Where  it  was  not  followed  by  consummation,  and  was  not  ratified 
by  any  mutual  assent  of  the  parties,  after  the  plaintiff  attained  the  age 
of  fourteen  years.  C.  C.  P.,  Chap.  25.  (The  word  fourteen  was 
changed  to  sixteen  by  the  act  of  June  24,  1887.)  In  order  that  a  mar- 
riage may  be  declared  void,  the  suit  must  be  brought  immediately 
upon  arriving  at  the  age  of  consent. 

Section  1744.  A  marriage  shall  not  be  annulled  at  the  suit  of  a 
party  who  was  of  the  age  of  legal  consent  (fourteen  then, sixteen  now) 
when  it  was  contracted,  or  where  it  appears  that  the  parties,  for  any 
time  after  they  attained  thai  age,  lived  together  as  husband  and  wife, 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  31 

had  consented  for  me,  signed  my  name,  and  witnessed 
the  contract.*  If  I  had  willingly  entered  into  the  con- 
tract alone  by  myself,  the  marriage  would  have  been  set 
aside  upon  my  petition,  as  there  would  have  been  no 
lawful  consent  to  the  marriage,  neither  my  own  (which 
did  not  count)  nor  my  mother's  ;  but  otherwise  it  had 
to  stand.  There  was  no  reason  for  annulling  it — except 
to  gratify  my  wishes  in  the  matter.  It  was  in  the  power 
of  the  court  to  do  this,  but  it  declined  to  do  it. 

"  You  don't  hate  your  uncle  now.  How  did  you  come 
to  like  him?" 

"  By  association,  I  suppose.  I  spent  my  subsequent 
vacations  travelling  with  him,  and  after  graduation  he 
took  me  on  a  delightful  trip  up  the  Mediterranean.  He 
never  scolded  me  once  or  said  a  harsh  word  to  me ;  and 
when  I  used  to  let  my  temper  out  in  a  blaze  at  him  he 
would  only  say  '  Poor  motherless  girl ! '  It  was  his  per- 
sistent amiability,  I  think,  that  reconciled  me  to  my 
fate.  I  am  very  fond  of  him,  at  times.  There  are  not 
many  men  in  the  world  with  such  a  sweet  disposition 
or  with  such  a  strong  brain." 

"  Smith  has  another  legal  wife,  you  said.  How  did 
that  come  ?  " 

*  Until  the  chi'.d  reaches  the  age  of  consent,  the  consent  is  vested  in 
the  parent  or  guardian.  In  this  case  the  point  was  not  made  that  the 
parties  were  uncle  and  niece,  and  if  it  had  been  properly  urged  the 
court  might  have  annulled  the  marriage  on  the  ground  that  they  were 
too  nearly  related.  The  sillier  the  point,  the  more  likely  to  be  adopted. 
Marriage  is  considered  by  the  courts  a  very  serious  matter,  and  a  mar- 
riage once  enteied  into  must  stand  unless  there  is  some  very  weighty  rea- 
son for  annulling  it.  Even  where  the  marriage  is  a  felony  in  itself — 
where  it  is  without  the  parent's  consent,  and  the  girl  is  under  sixteen — 
though  the  husband  be  sent  to  State  Prison  for  five  years,  yet  the  mar- 
riage stands  i;.iod  ;  and  no  human  power  could  declare  it  void,  prior 
to  June  24,  W<1,  if  the  girl  \va^  over  fourteen.  Section  1744.) 


32  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

Mrs.  Carter  looked  keenly  at  Dick,  and  the  trouble 
in  her  eyes  grew  deeper. 

"  One  day  Billy  asked  me  to  look  through  his  desk  for 
some  papers.  I  did  so,  and  found  a  divorce,  granted  in 
Indiana,  against  Jane  Williams.  It  was  dated  only  a 
few  months  before  our  marriage.  When  I  showed  it 
to  him  he  told  me  that  he  had  married  her  when  he  was 
nineteen  years  old.  He  spent  his  last  college  vacation 
with  a  classmate  who  lived  in  Jefferson  county,  and  she 
was  a  girl  in  a  neighboring  village.  He  had  married  her 
in  a  moment  of  infatuation,  and  when  he  told  his  father, 
the  latter  insisted  upon  a  divorce,  to  which  he  was  quite 
willing  to  agree,  but  had  never  taken  the  trouble  to  get 
until  then.  When  I  remarked  that  it  was  of  no  more 
use  than  a  piece  of  waste  paper,  and  that  his  previous 
marriage  in  this  State  rendered  our  subsequent  marriage 
in  this  State  not  only  invalid,  but  bigamous,  he  replied 
that,  before  going  to  Europe  the  year  he  was  graduated, 
lie  had  gone  to  the  village,  and  found  that  Jane  had 
left  with  her  sister ; .  that  he  tried  to  trace  her  and  could 
not ;  that,  when  we  were  married,  over  five  years  had 
elapsed  from  the  time  she  disappeared ;  and  that  he  was 
perfectly  free  to  marry  again  in  this  State  without  the 
divorce ;  *  but  that  if,  before  marrying,  he  had  not  se- 

SECTIOX  6.  If  any  person  whose  husband  or  wife  shall  have  ab- 
sented himself  or  herself  for  the  space  of  five  successive  years,  with- 
out being  known  to  such  person  to  be  living  during  that  time,  shall 
marry  during  the  lifetime  of  such  absent  husband  or  wife,  the  mar- 
riage shall  be  void  only  from  the  time  that  its  nullity  shall  be  pro- 
nounced by  a  court  of  competent  authority. 

This  second  marriage  has  the  same  validity  as  the  first  marriage, 
except  that  the  innocent  third  party  may,  at  pleasure,  apply  to  have 
it  ended.  The.  children  born  of  it  are  legitimate,  and  inherit,  and  it  is 
not  to  the  interest  of  the  iiuiocent  party  to  have  it  ended.  If  no  ap- 
plication is  made  by  the  proper  person  to  declare  it  void,  it  must  stand 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  33 

cured  the  divorce,  his  second  wife  would  have  been  free 
to  have  the  marriage  annulled  whenever  she  pleased. 
The  divorce  was  merely  to  keep  his  second  wife  from 
having  the  whip  hand  over  him.  I  suppose  I  might 
succeed  now  in  an  application  to  have  our  marriage 
annulled  from  the  date  of  the  decree,  if  I  should  make  a 
strong  effort,  in  spite  of  the  divorce,  *  for  Jane  Wil- 
liams is  his  lawful  wife  in  this  State  and  in  every  State 
except  Indiana  and  New  Hampshire  ;  but  why  should  I 
do  it  ?  If  I  had  known  about  it  years  ago,  I  should 
have  tried." 

"  How,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  wonderful,  do  you 
know  so  much  about  law  ?  "  Dick  asks. 

She  laughs  softly.  "  We  had  a  regular  course,  the 
last  year  at  Mrs  Rider's,  of  marriage  and  divorce  law.  She 
said  that  it  was  more  important  than  any  other  study  ; 
that  every  woman  should  understand  it  thoroughly,  as 
the  happiness  of  their  lives  would  more  often  depend 
upon  a  knowledge  of  the  law,  than  upon  French  or  music. 
We  had  an  excellent  instructor,  ex- Judge  Abbott,  and 
he  made  it  the  most  interesting  and  fascinating  study 

during  life.  If  the  deserter  returns,  then  the  party  deserted,  if  a  hus- 
band, has  two  legal  wives,  both  of  whom  he  must  support,  and  with 
both  of  whom  he  may  lawfully  live  ;  if  a  wife,  she  has  two  lawful 
husbands,  from  both  of  whom  she  is  entitled  to  support,  and  with 
both  of  whom  she  may  lawfully  live.  No  action  for  divorce  can  be 
maintained  by  any  of  the  parties,  as  their  relations  are  lawful. 

*  "  A  court  of  another  State  has  no  jurisdiction  to  dissolve  the  mar- 
riage of  a  citizen  of  this  State  domiciled  here  who  is  not  served  with 
process  in  the  foreign  State,  and  who  does  not  appear  in  the  action." 
Court  of  Appeals,  1880,  People  vs.  Baker,  76  N.  Y.,  p.  78. 

A  court  of  another  state  cannot  adjudge  a  dissolution  of  the  mar- 
riage of  a  resident  of  this  State,  without  voluntary  appearance  or  per- 
sonal service.  Supreme  Court,  1882,  People  vs.  Chase,  28  Hun,  p.  256. 

3 


34  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

we  had.  The  girls  used  to  be  impatient  for  that  study 
hour." 

"  I  never  found  law  lectures  entertaining,  when  I 
took  a  course  of  them.  How  did  he  teach  ?  " 

"  Mainly  by  actual  cases  taken  from  the  newspapers 
and  the  decisions  of  the  courts.  But  even  the  text  of 
the  statutes  was  made  interesting." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  that  a  husband  was  bound  to  pro- 
vide support  for  a  wife,  and  that  it  was  a  misdemeanor 
punishable  by  one  year's  imprisonment  if  he  failed  to 
doit?" 

"  You  are  trying  to  catch  me.  That  was  not  the  law 
then.  The  law  has  been  changed." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  interested  in  such  questions,  and  I 
keep  informed  about  all  changes,  as  he  recommended." 

"  Is  Mrs.  Rider's  the  only  school  where  girls  are 
taught  marriage  and  divorce  law  ?  " 

"  Not  now.  Nearly  all  American  finishing  schools  have 
a  similar  course.  She  started  it,  I  believe  ;  but  it  was 
long  before  my  time." 

"  I  don't  think  it  should  be  necessary,"  says  Mrs 
Carter. 

"  It  ought  not  to  be,  but  it  is,"  replies  Mrs  Smith, 
rising.  "  I  am  going  to  bed.  Nellie,  I  will  leave  you 
and  Mr  Jones  to  tear  my  character  to  pieces,  if  you 
wish  to  continue  this  stance." 

She  kisses  her,  bids  Dick  good-night,  and  flits  into 
the  house. 

Dick  takes  her  place  in  the  hammock  after  rearrang- 
ing his  aunt's  pillow." 

"  Isn't  she  a  delicious  woman  ?  "  he  asks,  in  a  vague  sort 
of  way, 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  35 

His  aunt  does  not  reply.  There's  a  strange,  faint  feel- 
ing, full  of  pain,  that  she  is  struggling  against,  and  she 
cannot. 

Dick  rattles  on.  "  She's  as  lissome  as  a  young  colt ;  and 
what  a  clear  and  clever  brain  she  has !  She  can  be 
sentimental  or  poetic,  and  yet  she  is  logical  and  full  of 
common-sense  at  the  same  time.  She  is  the  model 
American  wife  and  woman.  No  other  country  can  show 
anything  like  her,  yet  she  is  merely  a  type — a  very  fine 
type,  it  is  true — of  what  our  American  education  and 
environment  produce.  Her  brain  is  not  inherited  ;  it  is 
developed  by  training,  and  shows  what  our  training 
will  do.  I  do  not  wonder  that  foreigners  take  so  kindly 
to  our  girls.  In  one  or  two  generations  more  they  will 
be  so  clever  that  European  girls  will  be  comparative 
barbarians." 

"  I  think  I  will  go  in.    Will  you  put  the  glasses  back  ?  " 

Dick  is  feeling  in  his  pockets  for  something  he  can- 
not find. 

"  You  will  find  the  box  of  cigars  on  the  right  hand 
corner  of  the  dining-room  shelf.  There's  a  package  of 
cigarettes  on  the  box,  and  a  box  of  matches  beside  it." 

"  Thanks,  Mimi." 

He  bends  and  strokes  her  face  and  kisses  her.  She 
shrinks  a  little,  unconsciously,  then  lifts  her  head,  and 
kisses  him  in  return.  When  he  is  no  longer  in  sight  she 
rises  slowly  with  an  odd  little  laugh,  saying  softly, 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  has  come  over  me  ?  " 

Five  minutes  later  Dick  is  sitting  in  a  low  easy-chair 
by  the  dining-room  window,  and  is  in  the  act  of  striking 
a  match  when  he  feels  an  arm  around  his  neck,  and  a 
low  voice  says,  "  Dick,  may  I  disturb  your  dreams  for 
a  minute  or  two  ?  " 


36  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

The  match  goes  out  of  the  window.  He  turns  quickly, 
seizes  her  hands,  and  draws  her  upon  his  knee.  His 
quick  ear  has  caught  the  minor  key. 

"What  is  it,  Mimi?" 

Her  head  sinks  upon  his  shoulder,  and  her  bosom 
rises  and  falls  for  a  few  moments  in  noiseless  sobs. 

"  You  have  been  in  trouble,  yesterday  and  to-day,  and 
you  have  not  told  me,"  he  says,  gently. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  She  has  not  yet  control  of 
her  voice. 

"  By  your  face,  Mimi ;  by  your  eyes  when  they  rested 
on  me.  Do  I  not  know  every  shade  of  the  one,  every 
light  in  the  other,  my  own  sweet,  darling,  precious 
Mimi ;  pancake  or  no  pancake  ?  Tell  me." 

"  Do  you  know  what  day  this  is,  Dick  ?  " 

"Tuesday,  July  6,"  he  says,  after  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion. "  No,  Mimi ;  I  do  not  know  that  it's  any  particular 
day." 

"  Just  twelve  years  ago  to-night,  Dick,  you  came  into 
my  life  ;  and  now,  dear,  you  are  passing  out  of  it.  I  am 
losing  you,  Dick,  and  it  is  very,  very  hard."  Her  voice 
broke. 

He  kissed  her  eyes.  His  hand  smoothed  her  hair. 
Silence  was  more  consoling  than  words. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Dick?  It  was  after  dark  when 
we  got  home  from  the  funeral  and  I  took  you  to  my  room. 
You  cried  passionately  and  would  not  be  comforted,  even 
by  your  Mimi,  much  as  you  loved  her.  You  were 
such  a  delicate  and  fragile  child  that  up  to  that  time  we 
never  expected  you  to  live  from  one  week  to  another, 
and  I  grew  frightened  at  your  grief  and  tried  in  everyway 
to  console  you.  But  you  wanted  only  the  mamma  the 
wicked  men  had  left  behind  in  the  ground.  At  last  I 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  37 

unbuttoned  my  dress  and  put  your  thin  little  hand  on 
my  breast,  as  your  mother  would  have  done,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  you  fell  asleep.  I  sat  there,  Dick,  for  nearly  three 
hours,  for  every  time  I  moved  you  would  begin  sobbing 
in  your  sleep.  The  touch  of  your  hand  gave  me  the 
strangest  sensations.  From  a  girl,  I  grew  into  a  woman, 
from  an  aunt  into  a  mother.  I  had  loved  you  before, 
but  that  was  nothing  to  the  love  that  came  surging  up 
in  waves.  I  kissed  you,  I  cried  over  you,  I  prayed  over 
you.  I  vowed  that  I  would  be  your  mother,  and  I  believe 
that  I  forgot  you  were  not  my  own,  or  if  it  was  remem- 
bered for  a  moment  it  brought  a  jealous  twinge. 

"  For  three  years  or  more  I  lived  only  in  you  and  for 
you,  Dick.  I  sent  Harry  away,  because  he  might  not 
like  you,  and  only  let  him  come  back  to  me  when  he  had 
promised  to  be  your  father  and  brother.  He  was  good  to 
you,  Dick ;  and  you  owe  much  to  him." 

"  Indeed  I  do.  There  have  been  very  few  like  him  in 
the  world." 

"  My  first  care  was  your  health.  Night  and  day  I 
watched  over  your  crib.  I  followed  the  doctor's  advice 
to  the  letter,  and  I  often  had  to  deny  you  when  it  nearly 
broke  my  heart  to  do  it.  But  I  conquered  fate,  did  I 
not,  Dick  ?  "  She  puts  her  hands  to  his  cheeks  and  looks 
in  his  eyes  with  a  little  triumphant  sob.  "  Few  men  can 
compare  with  my  strong,  stalwart  Dick." 

"  I  owe  you  my  life,  my  more  than  mother.  I  have 
known  it  for  years.  I  never  shall  forget  it,  because  I 
cannot." 

"  Then,  Dick,  the  problem  was  to  bring  you  up,  not  like 
other  boys,  but  free  from  evil  and  the  contamination  of 
evil.  Many  a  night  I  have  lain  awake  thinking  of  this  ; 
for  I  wanted  you  to  be  a  pure,  sweet,  clean,  noble  man. 


38  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

And  you  are,  Dick ;  but  that  is  because  you  inherited 
your  mother's  mind  in  your  father's  body." 

"  No,  Mimi.  It  is  only  lately  that  I  have  fully  learned 
how  much  I  owe  in  this  respect  to  your  care,  your  wise 
and  watchful  tenderness  that  kept  me  from  temptation, 
that  encircled  me  on  every  side;  You  do  not  know 
yourself,  Mimi.  You  can  never  know." 

Her  arms  clasp  around  his  neck.  She  kisses  him  again 
and  again. 

"  For  years  I  have  known  I  must  lose  you,"  she  says, 
"  and  I  have  schooled  myself  to  bear  the  loss  of  my  first- 
born who  came  from  heaven  into  my  heart.  I  knew  I  must 
not  be  selfish,  and  that  it  was  my  duty  to  give  you  to  some 
noble  and  true  woman.  I  have  never  been  jealous,  my 
darling,  except  of  the  false  and  painted  women  for  whom 
you  always  seemed  to  have  such  a  strange  attraction." 

"  It  was  only  curiosity,  Mimi.  I  have  a  strange  fancy 
for  all  sorts  of  monstrosities,  such  as  living  skeletons,  and 
three-armed  men,  and  women  without  hearts,  and  talking 
girls  with  saw-dust  brains." 

"  They  were  often  pretty,  Dick !  But  you  know  I 
have  sent  you  among  good  women,  and  brought  pretty 
girls  (who  were  also  wise)  to  the  house.  Tell  me,  Dick, 
have  I  ever  shown  jealousy  of  any  woman  who  would 
make  you  a  proper  wife  ?  " 

There  was  an  entreaty  in  her  tone  of  which  she  was 
unconscious;  Dick  caught  it,  but — manlike — misappre- 
hended it  utterly. 

"  Mimi,  you  have  overloaded  me  with  sweethearts.  If 
I  danced  twice  with  a  woman  you  have  had  her  at  the 
house  on  a  visit  and  planned  something  where  I  should 
have  her  all  to  myself  for  an  hour.  If  I  praised  a  woman, 
you  made  up  a  theatre  party  with  me  as  her  special 


IT  IS  TEE  LAW.  39 

cavalier.  You  have  introduced  me  to  a  hundred  pretty 
women,  and  watched  my  face  for  some  sign  of  interest  in 
each  case  ;  and  when  I  showed  none,  have  straightway 
found  another  of  a  different  pattern  to  present  me  to. 
If  I  had  been  a  homely,  sour,  portionless  daughter  on 
the  wrong  side  of  thirty,  you  couldn't  have  been  more 
anxious  for  me  to  marry  or  have  maneuvered  more 
dexterously  to  find  me  chances.  And  I  wanted  none  of 
them.  You  were  my  sweetheart  from  the  time  I  was 
sixteen  to  twenty — and  I  wanted  no  other.  I  never  found 
in  their  faces  what  I  saw  in  yours,  Mimi.  I  have  been 
miserably  jealous  the  last  two  years,  when  you  have  put 
me  off  on  some  self-conscious  young  virgin,  and  have  sat 
and  talked  and  smiled  to  some  corset-waisted,  old,  pro- 
fessional beau." 

Her  arm  had  slipped  around  his  waist,  and  her  head 
was  laid  on  his  shoulder.  It  was  so  sweet  to  her 
bruised  heart. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  days,  Mimi,  when  you  were 
my  sweetheart,  and  I  would  have  none  other ;  when  we 
went  everywhere  together,  to  theatres,  and  parties,  and 
receptions ;  on  little  excursions,  and  even  to  base-ball 
matches  and  horse-races  for  which  you  cared  nothing  ? 
And  I  was  so  proud  of  my  lovely  sweetheart,  and  never 
let  the  boys  at  Columbia  know  you  were  my  aunt !  Do 
you  remember?  And  the  delicious  little  dinners  at 
Francanelli's,  and  the  little  suppers  after  the  play  at 
Tortoni's,  just  as  if  we  had  been  lovers  and  they  were 
sweet  stolen  waters  ?  And  how  long  I  would  take  to 
arrange  your  scarf,  until  my  hand  touched  your  chin, 
or  your  eyes  had  looked  into  mine  and  I  had  seen  the 
faint  flush  come  to  your  face  and  the  light  to  your 
eyes  and  the  little  sweet  smile  to  your  lips  ?  Those 


40  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

were  the  sweetest,  dearest  da,ys  of  my  life,  Mimi.  I 
will  never  be  so  happy  again.  Do  you  remember 
them  ?  " 

Remember  them !  Did  she  not  ?  Were  they  not 
ever  present  with  her — a  secret  delight  in  which  she 
never  dared  indulge  except  in  the  darkness  when  all 
alone.  And  she  knew  not  why  they  were  a  delight, 
or  why  she  should  fear.  Up  over  face  and  neck  and 
arms  to  the  very  finger-tips  the  red  blood  surged  in 
a  flood,  as,  with  his  arms  around  her,  she  recalled  them, 
and,  in  the  darkness,  her  face  turned  closely  to  his  neck, 
her  free  hand  unconsciously  pressed  upon  her  heart,  as 
if  to  smother  the  sound  of  its  irregular  beating,  and  she 
trembled  as  with  cold.  Time  and  place,  the  world,  the 
past,  everything  faded  away  and  was  forgotten  in  this 
moment  of  rapture  that,  like  a  sportive  wave,  seized  her 
with  a  grasp  against  which  no  human  strength  could 
think  to  struggle,  and  tossed  and  toyed  and  played 
with  her.  His  sweet  voice,  not  a  word  of  which  would 
she  or  could  she  lose,  brought  her  back  from  her 
dreams. 

"  I  did  not  know  then,  Mimi,  what  I  know  now,  that 
all  this  was  but  your  watchful  tenderness,  your  loving 
care,  my  more  than  mother,  to  keep  me  from  the  temp- 
tations and  the  sins  of  youth,  to  guide  me  through  the 
world  with  an  angel  by  my  side,  and  not  merely  to  keep 
me  in  ignorance  of  it,  that  prompted  you." 

Slowly  the  emotion  passed  away,  his  words  bringing 
rest  and  peace.  But  something  seemed  to  have  been 
lost,  though  she  knew  not  what.  She  was  vaguely  con- 
scious that  Fear  had  fled,  she  knew  not  why,  and  with 
it — Hope. 

"  But  you  will  never  know  the  fierce,  wild  jealousy 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W  41 

that  possessed  me  when  this  guardianship  passed  away 
after  I  became  twenty-one.  On  my  very  birthday,  when 
I  wanted  you,  the  sweetest,  best,  and  loveliest  woman 
the  sun  ever  shone  upon,  whom  I  had  looked  upon  so 
many  years  as  all  my  own,  for  my  companion  on  the  ex- 
cursion and  at  the  reception  ;  when  I  wanted  you,  as  I 
never  wanted  you  before  in  all  my  life,  to  rejoice  with 
me  in  my  manhood,  to  share  with  me  the  honor ;  on 
that  day  you  gave  me  to  baby-faced  Anne  Henderson. 
I  went  upstairs  to  my  room  and  shook  my  fist  at  myself 
in  the  glass  and  cursed  Anne  Henderson  \vjth  the 
major  excommunication  from '  Tristram  Shandy,'  before  I 
could  go  downstairs  and  be  civil  to  her." 

She  laughs  a  sweet,  joyous,  happy  laugh  of  unspeak- 
able content  as  she  half  turns  to  rest  her  heart  against 
his,  her  hands  caressing  his  cheeks,  fondling  his  fore- 
head, smoothing  his  hair.  It  is  only  for  a  moment,  but 
his  strong  arms  hold  her  closely,  and  their  grasp  is 
swe^t. 

"  And  that  is  why  you  took  such  a  dislike  to  that 
dainty  girl,  one  of  the  sweetest  you  ever  met  ?  "  How 
happy  she  is  the  voice  shows. 

"  That  and  nothing  else.     She  robbed  me  of  you." 

She  cannot  help  it.  Her  arms  close  around  his  neck. 
Her  lips  seek  his  in  passionate  pressure  that  is  felt  through 
every  nerve  of  her  body — and  his. 

"  No,  Dick,"  she  says,  almost  fiercely,  "  that  can  never, 
never  be.  No  one  can  take  me  from  you.  I  am  heart  of 
your  heart.  But  some  one  will  take  you  from  me." 

"  Why  will  you  even  think  of  such  a  thing?  " 

"  Because  it  is  true." 

She  rises  and  stands  by  the  window,  looking  out  at 
nothing  and  inward  at  the  painful  thought. 


42  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"  Come  here,  Mimi,  and  tell  me  what  you  mean." 

She  turns. 

"  T  must  say  it — " 

"  Not  there.  Here  on  my  breast ;  where  you  started 
to  say  it." 

"  But  I  am  heavy,  and  you  are  tired." 

It  is  very  tempting.     A  great  longing  seizes  her. 

"  Here,  or  I  will  not  listen." 

She  yields,  and  sits  upon  his  knee,  her  hand  upon  his 
shoulder. 

4<  Are  you  sure  you  are  not  tired  of  me  ?  " 

"  Tired  !  Aj^e,  as  tired  as  you  were  when  you  held 
me  for  three  hours  in  your  arms  to  keep  me  from  sob- 
bing! As  tired  as  you  were  an  hundred  and  a  thousand 
times  after,  when  you  watched  alone  by  my  bed  through 
the  long  nights  !  As  tired  as  you  have  been  when,  after 
a  long  day's  journey,  you  have  soothed  my  peevish, 
childish  complaints  with  unwearied  patience,  hour  after 
hour,  your  own  brain  half  benumbed  with  pain!  O, 
Nellie !  — "  his  voice  broke  in  a  fierce  sob —  "  if  I  only 
could  for  once  make  some  return.  To  suffer  pain  for 
your  dear  sake  would  be  the  keenest  delight." 

She  waited  for  a  moment  before  she  spoke. 

"  I  did  not  mean,  dear,  when  I  recalled  the  past  to 
you,  that  there  should  be  any  sense  of  obligation,  Dick. 
I  only  meant  to  recall  to  you  how  much  I  love  you, 
and  the  fact  that  sometimes,  though  loving  you,  I  have 
had  to  give  you  pain  that  good  might  follow.  And  if  I 
give  you  pain  now,  that  is  my  reason  and  my  excuse.  For 
many  weeks  I  have  seen  you  slipping  away  from  me, 
but  not  as  I  could  bear  to  see  you,  into  the  arms  of  a 
good,  pure  woman,  whom  I  could  clasp  to  my  heart  and 
call  my  daughter  and  my  sister.  I  cannot  say  more. 


IT  IK  THE  LA  W.  43 

You  know,  my  darling,  that  I  am  not  jealous  of  another 
woman  because  she  has  your  love — " 

Why  did  her  voice  falter  ?  What  meant  that  unreal 
sound  to  it,  as  if  she  did  not  believe  her  own  words  ?  It 
frightened  her. 

"  But  I  am  jealous  of  your  honor,  your  manhood, 
your  self-respect.  I  care  a  thousand  times  more 
for  your  honor  than  for  my  own.  It  has  not  yet 
bet1  n  sullied  by  any  low  intrigue  with  a  wife,  or  any 
vile  amour  with  a  common  woman.  Do  not,  Richard, 
be  tempted  into  either.  If  you  feel  that  you  owe  me 
anything  for  the  past,  repay  me  fully,  repay  me  to  the 
last  fraction,  by  heeding  my  words  and  by  doing  this 
thing  for  me.  Pass  this  temptation  by,  at  whatever 
cost.  If  it  is  worth  more  to  you  to  do  this  than  what 
you  owe  me — 

"  Don't !  "  He  laid  his  finger  lightly  on  her  lips.  "  I 
know  what  you  mean.  It  were  folly  to  deny  it  or  to 
beat  about  the  bush.  Your  clear  eyes  probably  saw  the 
descending  road  before  I  knew  1  was  on  it.  I  wish  you 
had  spoken  before  the  incline  became  so  steep,  but  what 
I  c;in  do  in  all  honor  to  recover  myself,  that  will  I  do." 

"  Oh  !  Dick.     Is  it  so  bad  as  that  ?  " 

Her  eyes  are  dry,  but  her  face  is  set,  and  the  agony 
of  death  is  passing  through  her, 

"Nay,  nay,  Nellie  !  I  have  not  had  one  kiss,  but  I 
have  kissed  her  hands,  and  once  her  ear.  It  is  so  bad, 
but  no  worse." 

"  Not  even  a  kiss  !  Not  even  one  !  "  She  is  bewil- 
dered. Then  her  indignation  flares  up  that  he  should 
have  been  so  ill-treated.  But  before  she  expresses  it, 
lit;  continues  : 

"•  You  told  me  years  ago  never  to  'kiss  and  tell ';  but 
not  to  tell  all  now  would  be  to  do  worse  by  indirection. 


44  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

That  kiss  on  her  ear  was  the  nearest  I  have  come  to  her 
lips." 

His  frank  tone  carried  perfect  conviction. 

"  But  you  love  her,  Dick  ?  "  It  was  not  a  question, 
but  an  entreaty,  a  statement  of  a  truth. 

"  Do  I  ?  "  he  asks,  with  a  laugh  that  is  more  than  half 
natural.  "  I  was  not  so  sure  of  it  after  I  asked  her  to 
run  away  with  me  and  she  declined,  as  before  it.  The 
more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  convinced  I  am  that  you 
and  I  ought  both  to  be  very  thankful  that  I  did  ask  her." 

"  But  you  must  love  her,  Dick !  She  is  so  handsome 
and  winsome,  so  keen  and  bright,  so  sadly  lovable  !  " 
She  couldn't  help  the  scratch.  "  But,  O,  Dick,  she's 
as  hard  as  nails,"  she  exclaims  in  a  sudden  burst  of 
confidence  and  temper. 

He  laughs  and  smoothes  her  arm.  She  takes  his  hand 
away. 

"  Tell  me,  do  you  love  her  ?  " 

"  Not  as  I  love  you,  Nellie."  The  words  are  very 
low  and  hesitating. 

"  I  know  that,"  she  replies  bravely,  but  with  a  sensa- 
tion of  fainting  and  a  pain  that  cuts  like  a  knife  ; 
"  but—" 

"  I  would  not  exchange  all  she  can  give  me,  though 
it  be  everything  in  the  power  of  woman  to  grant,  for 
one  kiss  from  your  lips,  for  even  one  loving  thought  in 
your  dreams.  Do  I  love  her,  Nellie  ?  "  His  speech  is 
quiet,  his  voice  very  grave.  The  past  twelve  hours  have 
been  a  cycle  in  his  life. 

She  bows  her  face  in  her  hands.  Her  tears  fall  like 
rain.  But  they  are  blessed  tears  that  freshen  the  parched 
heart  as  a  July  shower  freshens  the  scorched  fields.  It 
is  over  in  a  moment.  She  takes  her  hands  away  and  he 
dries  her  eyes.  The  little  action  is  balm  to  her. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  45 

"  Do  I  love  her,  Nellie  ?  "  he  persists.  Never  more 
does  the  childish  "  Mimi  "  (auntie)  come  from  his  lips. 

"  No,"  she  replies,  confidently.  She  leans  forward, 
puts  her  arm  around  his  neck,  her  heart  full  of  shy  hap- 
piness, longing  to  confer  some  pleasure  upon  him,  and 
says,  a  little  hesitatingly  and  with  a  color  that  the  dark- 
ness hides,  "  If  it  will  give  you  pleasure,  Dick,  kiss  her, 
fondle  her  to  your  content.  But  don't  love  her,' 
she  whispers,  unconscious  of  what  the  words  betray ;  "  1 
could  not  bear  that" 

He  takes  her  hands  in  his. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying?  A  moment 
ago  and  you  were  asking  me  to  keep  from  this  intrigue ; 
and  now  you  say  go  on  with  it.  What  has  come  over 

you?" 

It  was  too  true.     What  had  ? 

"  I  meant — I  mean — It  was  for  your  sake  I  wanted 
you  to  abandon  it.  If  you  loved  her  it  would  ruin  your 
life.  If  you  do  not  love  her,  I  have  no  right  to  object. 
You  merely  amuse  yourself." 

"  And  you  do  not  object  ?  It  would  please  you  to 
see  her  sitting  here  as  you  are,  my  arms  around  her, 
my  lips  on  hers  ?  " 

She  started  as  if  stung.  It  was  a  minute  before  she 
answered. 

"  I  have  no  right  to  ask  and  no  desire  that  you  should 
be  a  Joseph.  King  Arthur  was  not  less  but  more  the 
flower  of  Christendom  and  exemplar  of  all  that's  knightly 
and  noble  because  he  spent  three  months  in  Gwendolen's 
bower." 

"  You  have  not  answered  me." 

His  quiet  persistence  confuses  her.  The  shadow  of 
Fear  falls  upon  her.  She  feels  she  must  not  answer, 
even  to  herself,  much  less  to  him,  and  she  evades  it. 


46  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  saying  you  wished  I  had 
spoken  before  ?  "  she  asks. 

"  I  have  said  certain  words.  I  cannot  recall  words  that 
can  only  be  forgotten.  I  have  made  engagements  that 
must  be  kept." 

"  But  if  you  do  not  love  her,  there  is  no  danger  to 
you.  Her  caresses  will  give  you  pleasure.  Take  them. 
Let  us  try  and  forget  this  conversation." 

"  Will  that  be  so  easy  ?  " 

She  knows  it  will  not,  and  is  silent. 

"  Has  your  trouble  gone  ?  " 

"  Yes,  in  part."     She  rises. 

"  Do  not  go  yet.  You  came  here  to  scold  me.  Stay 
a  moment  now  that  things  disagreeable  have  been  fin- 
ished and  put  away." 

She  lets  him  draw  her  down.  Her  head  sinks  again 
upon  his  shoulder,  and  his  arm  holds  her  tightly.  She 
is  tired  from  the  conflict  of  emotions,  and  her  eyes  close. 
The  rest,  the  peace,  the  silence  are  delicious.  Minute 
after  minute  passes.  Then  a  sweet  sense  of  shame 
gradually  rises — wherefrom  or  wherefore  she  cannot  tell 
— and  she  starts  up,  blushing  violently.  She  feels  her 
face  burn. 

"  I  must  go  now.  Good-night,  Dick,"  she  says,  con- 
fusedly and  hurriedly,  yet  hesitating  as  she  goes,  as  if 
half  expecting  and  certainly  wishing  him  to  detain  her. 
But  he  does  not. 

"  Good-night,  Nellie.  May  you  have  sweet  and 
pleasant  dreams." 

Was  it  some  strange  tone  in  his  voice  that  caused  her 
to  stand  in  the  doorway,  waiting  until  he  had  closed  the 
windows  and  joined  her  ? 

"  You  are  very  sure  you  have  made  no  mistake,  that 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  47 

you  will  not  regret,"  she  says,  timidly,  as  they  reach  the 
top  of  the  stairs. 

"  I  shall  never  cease  to  regret  that  I  ever  told  another 
woman  I  loved  her ;  1  shall  never  forgive  myself  that 
for  one  brief  moment  I  thought  I  did,"  he  answers,  with 
a  tinge  of  bitterness,  as  he  turns  and  walks  up  the  cor- 
ridor. "  Good-night." 

She  stands  irresolute  for  a  moment.  He  has  nearly 
reached  the  door  of  his  room. 

"  Dick  !  "  she  whispers. 

He  hears  and  turns.  She  stands  in  a  little  patch  of 
moonlight  that  floods  the  corridor  from  the  west  win- 
dow, her  hands  half  extended  and  her  face  bowed. 

The  next  instant  she  is  clasped  closely  in  his  arms, 
and  she  clings  to  him,  though  his  kisses  burn  and  sting, 
and  her  blood  runs  leaping  and  dancing ;  clings  closer 
and  tighter  that  her  eyes  are  blinded  by  the  red  lights 
flashing  before  them,  and  she  cannot  breathe  except  in 
gasps  and  sobs. 

Suddenly  she  twists  herself  free,  and  the  next  instant 
is  in  her  room,  leaning  against  the  wall,  both  hands 
pressed  upon  her  panting  bosom,  but  listening  with  sup- 
ernatural keenness  to  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  on  the 
bare  boards. 

When  she  hears  the  door  of  his  room  close  she  sinks 
on  her  knees  by  the  bed. 

"  He  is  mine !  He  is  mine  !  He  is  mine  !  "  she  whis- 
pers over  and  over  again.  "  I  cannot  give  him  up  to 
another.  It  is  not  wicked !  It  is  not  wrong  !  It  is  the 
law." 


48  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  III. 

In  the  lips  of  him  that  hath  discernment  wisdom  is  found  : 
But  a  rod  is  for  the  back  of  him  that  is  void  of  understanding. 

Prov.  x.  13. 

"  WHY,  Frank,  this  is  abominable  !  You  cannot  mean 
to  prosecute  this  case  !  " 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  says  the  other  calmly.  "  At  this  time 
to-morrow  he  will  have  been  sentenced  to  five  years  im- 
prisonment." 

Both  men  are  about  thirty  years  old,  and  the  room  is 
plainly  the  bachelor  den  of  a  lawyer. 

The  first  speaker  is  fair-haired,  with  black  eyes.  His 
skin  is  as  clear  and  transparent  as  a  woman's,  and  he 
seems  the  embodiment  of  laziness  and  good  living  until 
one  catches  a  gleam  of  the  eyes.  He  is  one  who 
takes  the  world  and  the  flesh  easily — as  his  waist  shows — 
keeping  the  third  party  right  behind  the  eyelids,  and 
ready  to  spring  out  at  any  moment. 

His  companion  is  dark  and  spare,  with  keen  steel- 
gray  eyes  and  a  strong  face  with  fine  lines  ;  one  whose 
every  nervous  motion  shows  mental  activity  of  the 
strongest  kind.  He  is  the  district-attorney  of  Jefferson 
county,  and  acknowledged  to  be  the  best  it  ever  had. 

Two  men  of  more  opposite  natures  than  Frank  Brooks 
and  William  Smith  could  hardly  be  found  in  a  sum- 
mer day ;  and  it  is  probably  owing  to  the  fact  that  they 
never  agreed  in  their  lives  upon  any  single  question  of 
opinion  that  they  have  been  close  friends  from  the  day 


IT  IS  TUE  LA  W.  49 

they  joined  the  Freshman  class  in  Union  College,  six- 
teen years  before. 

"  But  this  is  a  mere  technicality,  Frank.  It  is  not 
justice." 

"  How  many  trout  did  you  catch  to-day  ?  " 

"  Six.  Never  mind  about  my  fishing.  That  is  aliunde. 
Talk  of  this  case." 

"  Answer  my  question  merely.  The  stenographer 
will  strike  out  all  after  the  word  '  six.'  Did  you  seek 
any  information  as  to  whether  any  of  the  six  were  mar- 
ried or  single,  rich  or  poor,  guilty  or  innocent  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  but ' 

"When  you  saw  a  fine  fat  fellow,  up  to  all  the  anglers' 
tricks,  did  you  not  try  to  get  him  in  preference  to  others 
that  were  ready  to  jump  for  your  bait  ? ' 

"  As  a  matter  of  course.     I  was  fishing  for  sport." 

"  Sometimes  I  fish  for  sport.  Those  who  are  floundering 
in  the  waters  of  the  law  are  my  trout,  and  I  try  to  land 
them  in  Auburn.  I  am  paid  for  it,  but  I  have  no  special 
liking  for  the  work.  Merely  to  pick  up  those  who  are 
fast  caught  in  the  meshes  of  the  net  is  labor  merely  for 
bread  and  butter.  But  when  I  see  a  fine  fat  fellow  that 
the  meshes  are  too  large  for,  one  who  has  eluded  the 
snares,  then  all  the  sporting  blood  in  me  comes  to  the 
surface,  and  I  spare  nothing  to  land  him." 

"  But  consider  this  case  by  itself  ;  not  as  a  lawyer, 
but  as  a  man  !  " 

"  With  pleasure  ;  as  a  juryman.  Go  on  !  state  the  case 
as  you  understand  it." 

The  other  laughs.  "  *  Trying  it  on  a  dog,'  Frank  ? 
Well,  here  goes.  What  do  you  think,  on  your  oath  as  a 
juryman,  remember,  of  this  story.  Peter  Robinson,  an 
honest  man,  upright  and  God-fearing,  marries  Fanny 


50  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

Williams,  district  school-teacher  and  soprano  in  the 
choir,  who  is  probably  pretty,  intelligent,  and  a  favorite 
with  the  men — three  felonious  offences  in  the  eyes  of 
every  old  maid  and  gossip  in  the  village  of  Tip'ton. 
Robinson  knows  he  is  hardly  worthy  such  a  wife,  and 
his  naturally  jealous-  temper  is  most  artfully  played  ;on 
by  two  or  three  mischief-makers.  He  has  occasion"  to 
be  absent  from  home  two  nights  in  every  month, 
and  rumors  reach  his  ears  that  a  strange  man  has 
been  seen  going  into  his  house  late  at  night  when 
he  is  away.  He  has  a  row  with  his  wife,  traces 
the  story  to  the  gossips,  and  one  of  these  asserts  that 
she  has  also  seen  his  wife  slipping  into  the  little  room 
at  the  depot  where  Bill  Bunker,  the  station-master,  sleeps, 
at  eleven  o'clock,  and  coming  out  at  two  in  the  morn- 
ing. Robinson  gets  a  divorce  on  their  testimony,  and  two 
weeks  afterward  a  girl  in  the  village  has  Bunker  arrest- 
ed and  brought  before  the  Overseers  of  the  Poor.  It 
turns  out  that  she  was  the  woman  the  gossips  saw — it 
was  not  Mrs.  Robinson.  Then  it  is  further  discovered 
that  the  woman  who  saw  a  man  go  into  the  house  was 
away  from  Tipton  on  the  date  she  gave  by  mistake,  and 
that  it  was  the  26th  she  was  on  the  watch,  not  the  25th, 
as  she  swore,  and  the  man  she  saw  was  Robinson  him- 
self. Mrs.  Robinson's  reputation  is  cleared,  and  she  and 
Robinson  are  reconciled  and  re-married  in  the  church, 
the  pastor  making  it,  we  will  suppose,  an  occasion  long 
to  be  remembered  by  his  sermon  on  scandalmohgering. 
Then  you  pounce  down  on  Robinson,  the  grand  jury  in- 
dicts him  for  bigamy,  as  an  accessory  thereto — 

"  And  to-morrow  he  will  go  to  Auburn  to  serve  out  a 
sentence  of  five  years'  imprisonment.  It  will  be  the  bes£ 
day's  work  I  ever  did." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  51 

"  You  cold-blooded  wretch !  If  his  counsel  had  moved 
to  have  the  divorce  set  aside,  the  court  would  gladly 
have  granted  the  motion.  Then  there  would  have  been 
no  bigamy.  He  was  at  liberty  and  free  to  marry  any 
other  woman,  not  a  married  woman.  Mrs.  Robinson 
could  not  marry  him  or  anybody  else." 

"  Exactly.  He  was  free  to  marry  any  one  else  and 
free  to  marry  her  if  he  was  willing  to  pay  $ 5  to  have  the 
divorce  set  aside.  But  he  kept  the  five  dollars  out  of  his 
lawyer's  pocket  and  in  his  own.  Because  he  saved 
five  dollars,  he  must  serve  five  years.  That's  just.  It 
was  highway  robbery  of  five  dollars  from  a  member  of 
the  legal  profession." 

"  Confound  you,  Frank.  I  am  tempted  to  volunteer 
in  his  defence  and  make  my  maiden  speech  to  a  jury.  I 
believe  I  could  beat  you." 

"That  would  hardly  be  professional,  Billy,  after 
studying  my  case  ;  but  I  will  gladly  have  you  do  it.  I 
have  tried  hard  enough  to  get  you  to  practice,  for  I 
know  you  would  stand  at  the  head  of  the  talkers,  as  you 
now  stand  at  the  head  of  the  thinkers.  I  will  risk  losing 
my  pet  case  to  get  you  to  make  the  plunge." 

"  Why  are  you  so  anxious  to  convict  this  poor  devil  ? 
What  did  he  ever  do  to  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  I  never  heard  of  him  until  I  read  in  the 
Observer  that  he  was  to  be  re-married.  I  never  saw 
him.  But  this  case  will  be  a  cause  cglebre.  It  will  be 
the  first  conviction  under  the  Court  of  Appeals'  decision 
in  the  case  of  the  People  vs.  Faber,*  and  Chief  Justice 

*  See  92  N.  Y.,  146.  "  A  person  against  whom  a  decree  of  divorce 
has  been  granted  by  the  courts  of  this  state,  who,  during  the  lifetime 
of  the  plaintiff,  marries  again  within  this  state,  is  guilty  of  bigamy.  He 
js  a  '  person  having  a  husband  or  wife  living '  within  2  R.  S.  087  §  8." 


52  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

Neilson's  decision  in  Moore  vs.  Moore.*  It  will  go  into 
the  law  books,  and  I  am  fighting  for  reputation  as  well 
as  fun.  If  he  has  not  money  enough  to  carry  the  case 
to  the  Court  of  Appeals,  I  shall  hire  counsel  for  him 
and  have  the  case  appealed  at  my  own  expense.  I  am 
right  and  I  will  win." 

"  I  grant  that  you  have  on  your  side  what  is  improp- 
erly called  '  the  law,'  but  is  really  rank  injustice.  You 
have  no  statute  law — no  man  would  disgrace  his  man- 
hood by  proposing  such  a  statute — only  judge-made  law 
to  defend  your  position.  What  useful  purpose  will  such 
a  conviction  serve  ?  You  cannot  be  so  heartless,  Frank, 
as  to  do  this  cruel  thing  for  mere  sport.  I  happen  to 
know  that  you  are  one  of  the  most  tender-hearted  and 
sympathetic  men  living — too  tender-hearted  to  hunt  or 
fish — much  too  tender-hearted  to  do  such  a  thing  as  this 
without  a  good  motive.  Come,  old  fellow,  tell  me  !  " 

Brooks  laughs.  "  All  the  lawyers  think  my  heart  is 
as  hard  as  flint.  Only  you  know  my  weakness,  and, 
putting  all  jest  aside,  the  point  is  this :  For  years  the 
civil  courts  have  been  dealing  out  the  most  diabolical 
injustice  in  the  name  of  law,  and  I  want  to  put  a  stop 

Held  (in  Robinson  vs.  Reed),  "that  this  prohibition  extends  to  his  re- 
marriage with  the  plaintiff,  who  becomes  by  the  divorce /emme  sole  an  A 
is  not  to  be  distinguished  from  any  other  femme  sole,  and  the  children 
born  of  the  second  and  bigamous  marriage  are  not  legitimate  and  can- 
not inherit." 

*  City  Court  of  Brooklyn;  Moore  vs.  Moore;  Action  for  divorce. 
"  Held,  That,  as  the  wife  knew  of  the  provision  forbidding  her  hus- 
band to  re-marry  during  her  lifetime,  and  as  the  decree  in  which  that 
provision  was  contained  had  been  obtained  upon  her  motion,  the 
second  marriage  of  these  previously  divorced  parties  was  illegal  and 
void;  the  plaintiff  was  not  the  legitimate  wife  of  the  husband,  she 
having  married  him  while  he  was  under  a  disability  to  remarry  :  and 
as  she  was  merely  his  mistress  the  children  were  illegitimate." 


IT  IS   THE  LAW.  53 

to  it.  These  divorces  and  re-marriages  have  become  as 
common  as  ditch-water,  and  the  criminal  side  of  the  law 
has  refrained,  through  mistaken  mercy  and  perhaps 
motives  of  policy,  from  prosecuting  them.  Now,  in 
every  case,  without  exception,  when  the  man  dies,  and 
his  widow  and  children  attempt  to  keep  the  property 
he  leaves — it  may  be  only  a  few  acres  of  land,  or  only 
a  house,  or,  as  in  a  case  tried  here  in  Watertown  last 
week,  a  milk  route  with  a  horse  and  wagon — the  civil 
court  steps  in  and  takes  it  away  from  them.  It  brands 
the  woman  as  a  mistress  and  the  children  as  bastards, 
and  turns  them,  penniless  and  disgraced,  out  into  the 
world.  If  I  let  this  case  pass,  when  Robinson  dies 
his  wife  will  be  turned  out  of  his  house,  the  children 
born  to  them  will  be  declared  illegitimate,  and  the 
family  will  go  on  the  town.  These  civil  cases  never 
get  into  the  newspapers,  much  less  the  Reports.  No- 
body ever  hears  of  them.  They  are  too  common  to 
excite  remark.  The  decision  is  misunderstood,  for  the 
people  think  it  is  because  the  second  marriage  was  not 
properly  performed  or  lacked  some  formality,  and  no 
one  takes  warning.  Only  a  criminal  case  is  talked 
about,  or  remembered,  or  understood.  The  conviction 
of  Faber  caused  widespread  discussion,  but  it  was  on  a 
side  issue.*  Now  this  conviction  will  bring  the  sub- 

*  See  note  ante.  Faber  did  not  marry  his  divorced  wife.  He  mar- 
ried another  woman.  But  this  fact  was  not  noticed  by  the  court  ; 
nor  was  any  distinction  made  by  the  Court  of  Appeals,  in  confirming 
his  sentence,  between  his  marriage  with  his  divorced  wife  and  with 
any  other  single  woman.  The  offence  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
woman.  It  was  the  act  of  marriage.  In  the  discussion  of  Faber's 
case  the  only  point  to  which  attention  was  directed  was  that  it  was 
hi^iiiny  for  a  divorced  man  to  remarry.  Nobody  observed  that  the 
inhibition  included  his  divorced  wife,  and  it  was  taken  for  granted 
>y  the  laymen  that  she  was  cxcepted  from  it. 


54  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

ject  sharply  and  clearly  before  the  public.  There  are 
no  side  issues  in  it — only  the  one  fact.  The  newspapers 
will  take  it  up,  and  I  shall  use  it  as  a  lever  to  get  the 
law  changed.  Robinson  will  suffer ;  but  his  conviction 
will  save  thousands  of  families  from  ruin  and  disgrace, 
and  hundreds  from  being  forced  by  these  civil  courts 
into  the  ranks  of  the  criminal  classes." 

Smith  nodded.  u  Good  for  you,  Frank.  You  are 
perfectly  right.  I  have  nothing  more  to  say." 

"  But  I  have.  I  want  a  friend,  a  lawyer,  quick  to 
understand  and  apply.  If  I  were  not  a  district  at- 
torney, only  a  lawyer  without  practice,  and  I  should  be 
present  in  a  town  where  such  a  case  was  tried,  I  should 
drop  on  the  fact  that  it  was  not  the  man  but  the  woman 
who  committed  the  bigamy  ;  that  she  was  the  real  cul- 
prit and  he  only  an  accessory ;  I  should  know  that  the 
grand  jury  would  be  in  session,  waiting  to  hear  the  re- 
sult, and  ready,  if  the  man  should  be  convicted,  to  bring 
in  an  indictment  for  bigamy  against  the  wife.*  I 
should  know  that  this  indictment  could  not  be  presented 
in  the  court  until  the  next  morning  at  eleven  o'clock, 
and  before  that  time  came  and  the  court  issued  a  warrant 
for  her  arrest,  I  should  have  that  woman  out  of  its  juris- 
diction, never  to  be  brought  back.  I  should  know  that  the 
district  attorney  could  not,  without  violating  his  oath  of 
office,  be  a  party  to  what  I  should  do,  or  give  me  any 
help ;  but  I  should  know  that  I  was  relieving  his  mind 
of  a  heavy  load  of  responsibility,  and  that  even  if  T 
were  a  stranger  he  would  consider  me  the  best  friend 
he  ever  had.  I  should  know  that  nothing  could  save 

*  Both  parties  are  equally  guilty  and  receive  the  same  punishment — 
see  Sec.  301,  Criminal  Code — provided  the  consort  knows  of  the  di- 
vorce. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  55 

;  i 

the  woman  from  conviction  if  the  man  were  previously 

...  •  A.  */ 

convicted,  because 'she  was  the  principal  and  he  only 
an  accessory,  and  that  even  her  counsel  would  advise 
her  to  plead  guilty,  though  a  plea  of  guilty  is  practically 
a  bar  to  executive  clemency.  I  should  also  know  that 
the  district  attorney  would  never  seek  out  where  the 
woma/i  went  to,  although  he  would  have  to  prosecute 
her  when  brought  before  the  court,  for  "  pigeon- 
holing "  such  cases  is  not  permitted  by  the  honest 
countryman  ;  only  by  the  careless  citizen." 

"  By  the  way,  Frank,"  Smith  says  carelessly,  ap- 
parently taking  no  interest  in  what  his  friend  had  been 
saying,  "  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  think  of  taking  a 
run  down  to  the  city  to-morrow  night  on  the  9.15  train ; 
I  had  a  letter  from  my  wife,  to-day,  that  makes  it  nec- 
essary. You  won't  mind  my  cutting  my  visit  short, 
will  you,  under  the  circumstances?  Our  wives,  you 
know,  are  entitled  to  our  first  consideration.  And 
would  you'mind  telling  my  friends  early  in  the  morning 
that  I  am  going?" 

Brooks  laughed.  "  You  cannot  imagine  what  a  relief 
it  will  be  to'  me  to  have  you  go — under  the  circum- 
stances. A  man  who  has  married  a  wife  with  $ 30,000 
a  year  ought  certainly  to  obey  her  slightest  wish — 
especially  when  she  is  as  sweet  and  lovely  as  Mrs.  Smith. 
If  I  only  had  her,  Billy,  you  might  have  her  money  and 
welcome." 

Smith  blew  one  ring  through  another.  "  So  it  was 
a  '  mash  ',"  he  says  slowly.  "  I  thought  so  at  the  time. 
I  came  near  getting  'mashed'  myself  just  before  I  came 
here." 

Brooks  looks  at  him.  "  Aphrodite  came  back  to 
earth  to  a  London  barber,  and  Proserpine— 


56  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  Comes  back  to  me.  Thanks.  I  am  as  sorry  for  her 
as  the  barber  was  for  his  Venus.  It  is  very  singular, 
but  I  have  been  thinking  all  day  of  that  first  wife  of 
mine.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  she  were  near  me,  some- 
where. Do  you  know,  Frank,  a  man  loves  only  once 
in  his  life — and  I  loved  her.  I  love  her  now,  and  always 
will." 

"  She  was  a  lovely  and  lovable  child.  I  don't  think 
you  treated  her  as  well  as  you  should  have  done." 

"  I  did  the  best  I  could.  My  father  made  me  go  to 
Europe.  I  was  absolutely  afraid  of  him — and  I  was 
only  a  boy.  But  before  I  left  I  went  to  Ridgeville,  and 
was  told  that  she  had  gone  to  her  sister's  in  Philadel- 
phia. I  wrote  to  her  at  Philadelphia,  and  advertised 
the  letters  in  the  Philadelphia  papers.  When  I  came 
back  from  Europe  after  father  died,  I  spent  several 
thousand  dollars  advertising  for  her.  I  couldn't  do 
more." 

Brooks  makes  no  reply. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about,  Frank  ?  The  case  ?  " 

"  The  case !     No." 

"  Then  it's  Proserpine." 

The  other  colors  a  trifle.     Then  he  says  gravely: 

"  Yes.     How  many  legal  wives  have  you,  Billy  ?  " 

"  Only  the  two.  What  do  you  take  me  for,  a 
Turk  ?  " 

"  No,  I  was  only  thinking  of  your  walking  down  Fifth 
Avenue  with  a  lawful  wife  on  each  arm — I  did  not 
know  but  that  you  might  have  a  third  following  you — 
and  Robinson,  in  a  striped  suit,  breaking  stones  because 
he  tried  to  keep  his  one.  I  seemed  to  see  the  two  pic- 
tures one  over  the  other." 

"  Perhaps  you  may,"  Smith  rejoins  carelessly.  "  Why 
not  ?  You  say  it  is  the  laic." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  57 


CHAPTER  IV. 

There  is  grievous  correction  for  him  that  forsaketh  the  right  way. 

Prov.  xv.  10. 

THE  country  court-room  was  crowded.  Robinson's 
arrest  had  astonished  the  country  side — if  anything  can 
truthfully  be  said  to  astonish  the  American  farmer. 
How  a  man  who  never  had  had  more  than  one  wife — 
not  even  a  dead  one  to  add  to  the  living  one — could 
commit  bigamy,  puzzled  him.  He  did  not  discuss  the 
question — the  American  countryman  never  does  that. 
Discussion  is  left  to  the  women  ;  he  wastes  no  words — 
except  in  making  speeches.  He  simply  thought  about 
it,  and  this  case  required  a  great  deal  of  thinking — so 
much  that  he  became  absent-minded. 

The  prisoner  sat  within  the  railing,  on  the  left  of  his 
counsel,  an  old  man,  evidently  "  set  in  his  way,"  who 
tried  all  cases  on  one  model.  Beside  him  were  two 
women,  both  extremely  refined  and  pretty — one  re- 
markably so.  Robinson  was  a  man  of  about  thirty-five, 
who  had  already  begun  to  stoop.  His  face  was  rugged 
and  honest,  but  stern  and  vindictive  ;  that  of  a  man  to 
be  respected,  but  not  loved  or  even  sympathized  with. 
Smith's  description  from  imagination  fitted  him  fairly 
well. 

The  district  attorney,  as  he  took  his  seat  a  little 
nearer  the  clerk,  glanced  rather  curiously  at  Robinson 
and  at  the  two  women. 


58  IT  IS  THE  J.A  W. 

"  Remember  they  are  your  charge,"  he  mutters  to 
Smith. 

"  Who  and  w£ich  are  they  ?  " 

Brooks  called  an  attendant. 

"  Mrs.  Robinson  and  her  sister,  Mrs.  Greene." 

"  What  kind  of  a  lawyer  has  he  ?  " 

"  The  biggest  ass,  with  the  biggest  reputation  in  the 
county.  He  will  be  sure  to  bungle.  I  wish  you  had 
the  case." 

Smith  smiles  absently,  and  continues  his  study  of 
Mrs.  Greene's  face,  changing  his  position  so  that  he  can 
do  it  uninterruptedly. 

Two  hours  are  spent  in  wrangling  over  the  indict- 
ment and  in  impanelling  the  jury.  The  motion  to  quash 
the  indictment  is  postponed  by  the  judge  until  the  prose- 
cution has  submitted  its  case.  Brooks'  opening  speech 
is  exactly  one  minute  long.  He  calls  but  two  wit- 
nesses. 

The  first  is  the  gray-haired  clergyman.  He  identifies 
the  prisoner  as  the  man  married  on  a  certain  date  to  the 
woman  who  sits  beside  him. 

Brooks  offers  in  evidence  a  certified  copy  of  the  decree 
of  divorce  between  them.  The  judge  marks  it  for  iden- 
tification, and  the  clergyman,  continuing  his  testimony, 
identifies  the  prisoner  as  the  man  married  on  the  fifteenth 
of  the  preceding  month,  in  his  church. 

The  cross-examination  merely  establishes  the  fact 
that  he  was  married  on  each  occasion  to  the  same 
woman. 

"Jane  Greene  !  "  calls  the  crier. 

Mrs.  Greene  takes  the  chair  and  is  sworn.  Brooks 
asks  her  only  a  few  questions.  She  was  present  at  both 
marriages  and  identifies  the  prisoner.  She  was  present 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  59 

jit  the  hearing  of  the  evidence  in  the  divorce  suit  before 
the  referee.  The  prisoner  was  the  plaintiff.  The 
woman  he  married,  June  15,  was  the  defendant  in  the 
divorce  case.  The  copy  of  the  decree  is  of  that  granted 
in  his  suit  against  her  sister,  and  her  sister  and  he  were 
remarried  June  15. 

"  Your  witness."  remarks  Brooks ;  "  and  my  case," 
he  adds  sotto  voce. 

A  great  inspiration  comes  to  the  defendant's  attorney. 
There  is  but  this  woman's  testimony  to  prove  the 
prisoner  is  the  person  named  in  the  decree.  Her  testi- 
mony must  be  broken  down.  He  has  but  the  one 
method.  He  knows  no  other. 

"  Your  name  is  Jane  Greene.  What  was  it  before 
you  married  Mr.  Greene  ?  " 

"  Jane  Smith,"  she  replies  with  a  slight  flush. 

"That  was  your  maiden  name?  " 

"  No.     It  was  Williams." 

Smith,  with  a  face  as  white  as  his  shirt-front,  whis- 
ers  hurriedly  to  Brooks.  He  has  been  expecting  it,  but 
it  is  no  less  a  shock. 

"  You  were  married  previously  to  your  marriage  with 
Mr.  Greene,  last  year  ?  " 

" 1  object,"  says  Brooks,  plainly  disturbed.  "  The 
witness  is  not  on  trial.  Her  marital  relations  are  not 
before  the  court." 

"  I  will  permit  the  question,  although  I  can  see  no 
object  in  it.  You  may  answer." 

"  I  had  been  married  previously." 

"  Was  your  first  husband  dead,  or  had  you  obtained  a 
divorce  when  you  married  Mr.  Greene  ?  "  thunders  the 
counsel,  certain  from  the  emotion  shown  by  the  District 
Attorney  that  he  has  struck  the  weak  point. 


60  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"  Do  not  answer,  Mrs.  Smith,"  says  Brooks  quickly. 
"  Let  me  answer  for  you.  I  am  Willie's  friend,  Frank. 
If  the  court  please,  I  wish  to  enter  my  earnest  pro- 
test with  my  objection  to  dragging  into  this  case,  for  no 
object  whatever,  the  great  grief  and  great  sorrow  that 
came  twelve  years  ago  to  the  witness  and  to  our  hon- 
ored guest." 

At  this  there  was  a  sensation.  The  witness  looked 
at  Smith  fixedly  for  a  moment,  rose  with  a  gasp  and  a 
sob,  and  sank  back  fainting  in  the  chair.  Smith  sprang 
over  the  counsel's  table  and  lifted  her  up,  calling  for  a 
glass  of  water,  which  the  judge  handed  to  him.  It  was 
hardly  needed,  for  she  opened  her  eyes  immediately,  and 
sobbed,  "-Willie  !  Willie  !  " 

"If  the  counsel  wishes,  we  will  admit,"  continues 
Brooks,  in  a  voice  that  echoes  through  the  room  like  a 
minor  chord  of  music,  "  that  the  witness,  twelve  years 
ago,  married  my  friend  who  now  supports  her.  They 
were  little  more  than  children  at  the  time,  and  to  my 
knowledge  were  forcibly  separated  after  a  few  months 
of  married  life,  not  to  meet  again  or  hear  of  one  another's 
existence  until  the  present  moment.  As  soon  as  her 
husband  reached  man's  estate,  he  began  his  search  for 
his  lost  wife — a  search  in  which  he  has  spent  a  fortune 
— and  which  ends  to  day  and  here."  A  thrill  of  emotion 
and  a  wave  of  applause  ran  unchecked  through  the 
room.  "  She  waited  for  him  the  five  years  fixed  by  law, 
as  her  evidence  shows ;  she  waited  for  him  another  five 
years  yet,  and  it  was  not  until  over  ten  years  had  passed, 
until  she  had  been  free  for  five  years  to  remarry,  that 
she  took  other  bonds.  Her  husband  is  known  to  the 
court  as  a  member  of  the  bar  and  of  the  State  Legisla- 
ture. Will  the  counsel  insist  upon  him  and  upon  me 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  61 

going  upon  the  witness-stand  to  protect  her  fair  fame 
and  honor  from  his  wanton  and  idle  assault  ?  " 

"  It  will  not  be  necessary,"  is  the  sharp  reply  of  the 
court.  "  Mr.  Billings,  have  you  any  more  questions  to 
ask  the  witness  ?  Mr.  Smith,"  his  voice  is  more  than 
kind,  "  take  your  wife  to  my  private  room." 

He  has  not  waited  for  reply,  but  Billings  is  not 
capable  of  any.  He  is  paralyzed  at  the  blunder  he  has 
made. 

"  This  is  the  case  for  the  people." 

Billings  suggests  a  recess  for  dinner,  and  it  is  taken, 
to  everybody's  delight.  The  case  before  the  court  is 
forgotten  in  the  romance  it  has  revealed. 

"  Do  I  remember  you  ?  "  asks  Mrs.  Robinson,  as  Brooks 
takes  her  hands.  "Does  any  woman  ever  forget  her 
first  sweetheart  ?  I  was  only  twelve,  and  in  short  frocks, 
but  you  made  me  think  I  was  a  princess  in  a  long  train. 
I  knew  well  enough  that  it  was  only  to  keep  me  from 
interfering  between  Willie  and  Jane,  but  all  the  girls 
were  wild  over  you,  and  it  was  the  sweetest  triumph  I 
ever  had.  O,  Frank,"  and  a  great  sob  came  as  she  real- 
ized who  and  what  he  was,  "  you  will  be  merciful 
to  us !  " 

'•  As  I  can,  dear  Fanny.  If  you  were  my  own  sister, 
my  mother,  or  my  daughter,  your  interests  could  not 
have  been  more  carefully  guarded  than  they  already 
have  been.  A  month  from  now,  perhaps  sooner,  when 
you  fully  realize  from  what  an  abyss  I  have  saved 
you,  you  will  thank  me.  But  promise  me,"  he  said,  in 
an  undertone  which  only  she  heard,  "  promise  me  that- 
for  twenty -four  hours  you  will  be  guided  solely  by  Willie. 
He  is  one  of  the  very  best  lawyers  in  the  state,  he  un- 
derstands the  law  in  this  case,  and  Billings  don't ;  and 


62  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

you  must  do  what  he  says,  blindly,  and  without  asking 
any  questions.     Will  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  says  frankly,  "  I  promise  you." 

"  And  I  know  the  value  of  your  promises,"  he  says,  in 
a  tone  of  relief.  "  Dominie,  are  you  and  Mrs.  Freeman 
waiting  to  take  Mrs.  Robinson  to  dinner  ?  The  judge 
has  already  carried  off  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith.  This  will 
be  walnuts  and  raisins  to  him." 

Brooks  invites  two  of  his  friends  to  dinner,  but  he 
is  not  good  company.  They  imagine  his  thoughts  are 
with  his  speech  to  the  jury,  but  he  never  even  remem- 
bers that  he  is  to  make  one.  They  are  far  away,  with 
"  Proserpine." 

After  the  recess  the  real  battle  begins.  Billings  has 
made  the  additional  blunder  of  treating  the  case  with 
contempt  from  the  first.  Instead  of  studying,  he  has 
ridiculed  it.  "  Ten  words  of  common-sense  will  blow 
it  out  of  court,"  he  has  confidently  predicted.  But  his 
blunder  of  the  morning  has  made  him  lose  confidence 
in  himself,  and  the  ten  words  seem  hard  to  find.  He 
begins  by  showing  good  character. 

The  District  Attorney  admits  it,  and  in  a  few  well- 
chosen  words,  pays  a  tribute  to  the  prisoner's  previous 
life  and  character  that  leaves  nothing  more  to  be  said. 
No  witnesses  are  needed. 

Then  the  usual  motions  are  argued  to  quash  the  in- 
dictment and  to  dismiss  the  case,  and  Billings  finds,  to 
his  astonishment,  that  he  is  but  an  unarmed  naked 
savage  fighting  with  a  giant  clothed  in  mail  and  armed 
with  weapons  of  precision.  Decision  after  decision  is 
cast  upon  his  defenceless  head,  case  after  case  is  thrust 
at  him  ;  and  with  none  is  he  familiar.  Every  point  he 
makes  is  passed  to  pne  side  and  shown  to  be  aliunde. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  63 

His  "  common-sense  "  hides  its  head  and  cannot  be 
found  as  the  "  majesty  of  the  law  "  is  unveiled  to  his 
slow-working  mind. 

The  audience  listen  with  breathless  interest  to  the 
sweet-voiced,  gentle  replies  of  the  young  District  At- 
torney, and  nod  their  heads  at  each  plain  and  unanswer- 
able argument.  His  reasoning  is  close,  his  constructions 
strict,  but  his  words  are  so  simple,  his  logic  so  clear, 
that  they  wonder  how  any  one  can  contradict  what  he 
says.  They  look  with  astonishment  at  the  man  whom 
they  have  hitherto  considered  invincible,  and  wonder  if 
he  is  getting  too  old  and  losing  his  powers. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  do  not  return  to  the  court-room, 
and  Mrs.  Robinson  comes  in  late,  taking  a  seat  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  counsel's  table,  which  runs  perpen- 
dicularly to  the  judge's  desk  and  parallel  to  the  jury 
box,  only  a  narrow  lane  leading  to  the  witness-chair 
beside  the  judge  separating  the  two.  Her  husband  sits 
at  the  side  of  the  table,  directly  behind  Billings,  and 
close  to  her.  The  railed  enclosure  is  crowded  with  the 
members  of  the  bar,  keenly  interested  in  the  law  points 
involved. 

The  counsel's  plea  for  his  client  is  really  one  of  his 
best  efforts.  Once  on  his  feet  before  the  jury,  once 
away  from  the  magnetic  influence  of  those  keen  gray 
eyes,  once  freed  from  the  consciousness  that  through  his 
own  stupidity  he  is  fighting  at  an  enormous  disadvan- 
tage— his  foot  is  on  his  native  heath  and  his  name  is 
once  more  Billings.  More,  he  is  spurred  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  has  lost  ground  to  redeem,  and  he  ex- 
erts himself  as  never  before  in  his  life  to  save  the  case. 
He  knows  now  that  it  is  desperate,  and  he  understands 
.that  if  he  loses  it,  his  reputation  and  income  will  be 


64  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

seriously  injured.  He  appeals  for  sympathy,  for  mercy, 
and  he  overdoes  it. 

"  If  he  only  knew  when  to  stop,"  whispers  one  lawyer 
to  another. 

The  sweet  voice  and  gentle  manner  of  Brooks  is  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  rolling  thunder  and  contortions 
of  the  other.  His  short  sentences,  unadorned  by  super- 
fluous adjectives  or  striking  tropes,  are  a  relief  to  the  ear. 
There  is  a  slight  languor,  a  touch  of  sadness,  that  cap- 
tures the  jury  in  a  moment,  and  the  foreman  gives  a 
glance  to  his  neighbor,  as  if  to  say,  "  How  glad  he  would 
be  if  he  did  not  have  to  speak,  and  could  let  the  case  go  !" 

"  There  is  one  point,  gentlemen,"  he  says,  just  before 
the  brief  address  closes,  "  which,  but  for  a  circumstance 
that  has  happened  here  to-day,  I  should  not  have  men- 
tioned. The  prisoner's  counsel  has  painted  me  as  a  Sioux 
warrior,  skulking  up  to  a  happy  home  in  the  dead  of  night, 
and  firing  the  house,  in  order  that  I  may  brain  with  my 
tomahawk  the  half-naked  women  and  children  as  they 
rush  out." 

The  jurymen  look  into  his  face  as  he  pauses  for  a 
moment,  and  a  broad  smile  comes  upon  every  lip.  But 
there  is  no  answering  smile  on  his,  only  a  deepening 
shade  of  sadness,  and  they  sympathetically  and  intently 
look  at  him  to  see  what  is  coming. 

"  You  have  listened  closely  to  the  law  arguments  that 
have  been  made  before  his  honor,  and  I  need  not  recall 
to  your  minds  the  score  or  more  of  cases  cited,  where 
two  parties  remarried  after  divorce,  lived  happily  until 
one  died,  and  then  the  civil  court  stepped  in,  seized  the 
property  left  by  the  dead,  turned  the  adulteress  into  the 
highway,  and  sent  the  bastard  children  to  the  county 
poorhouse.  This  is  the  end,  in  the  civil  courts,  gentle- 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  65 

men,  of  every  such  remarriage.  It  will  be  the  end  of  this, 
if  you  do  not  put  up  a  bar  forbidding  it.  No  verdict  of 
yours  can  make  it  legal.  These  two  may  live  together 
in  adultery,  if  you  wish.  But  their  children  will  be  the 
children  of  shame,  which  no  human  power  can  save  them 
from." 

Mrs.  Robinson  bowed  her  head  and  shaded  her  face 
with  her  hand.  The  fierce  vindictive  light  died  out  of 
Robinson's  eyes.  Even  the  judge  leaned  forward,  intently 
listening. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  if  there  had  been  present  at  any  one 
of  these  marriages  one  who  understood  the  law,  one  who 
knewit  was  not  a  lawful  marriage,  and  that  the  parties  to 
it  had  merely  agreed  to  live  together  in  open  adultery — 
not,  as  they  thought,  in  lawful  wedlock — what  would  you 
think  of  him,  gentlemen,  if  he  had  held  his  peace  ?  if  he 
had  not  warned  them  of  the  sin  they  were  about  to  com- 
mit ?  if  he  had  not  pointed  out  the  misery  to  flow  from  it, 
the  scorn  and  disgrace  it  would  put  upon  the  head  of 
innocent  children  ?  But  suppose  they  had  insisted. 
Would  he  not  have  been  justified  in  knocking  the  man 
down  to  prevent  it  ? 

"  One  year  ago,  when  I  took  upon  myself  the  duties  of 
county  attorney,  I  resolved  that  whenever  such  a  mar- 
riage took  place,  and  I  could  prevent  the  adultery,  I 
would  do  it  at  any  cost  of  popularity  or  reputation.  It 
was  idle  to  move  in  cases  where  the  adultery  already  ex- 
isted— it  would  be  cruel  to  deprive  those  living  in  sin  of  a 
few  years  or  a  few  months  of  happiness — the  disgrace  was 
certain  to  be  stamped  upon  them  sooner  or  later.  But 
if  I  could  spare  two  innocent  people  this  brand  of  sin  and 
shame,  if  I  could  keep  one  bastard  from  being  born  into 
the  world,  I  resolved  to  do  it,  even  if  I  had  to  knock  the 
man  down,  or  bring  him  face  to  face  with  you." 


66  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"When  I  read  of  this  marriage,  I  went  myself  to 
Tipton.  I  learned,  two  hours  after  the  marriage,  that 
Mrs.  Robinson  had  gone  straight  from  the  church  to 
Fairview,  to  nurse  her  dying  sister,  leaving  the  prisoner 
behind.  I  was  in  time  to  prevent  adultery,  and  I  did 
prevent  it.  No  blush  of  shame  can  ever  come  to  her 
fair  cheek  if  you  now  raise  up  the  barrier  between  them. 
No  bastard  children  will  ever  call  her  mother.  No 
brand  of  adulteress  will  ever  be  burned  upon  her  hand. 
She  is  as  pure  and  as  innocent  as  when  a  child.  She  is 
free  from  sin  and  from  the  suspicion  of  sin.  So  is  the 
prisoner.  I  bring  them  both  to  you  "without  a  stain  on 
their  name  or  their  honor,  and  I  ask  you  to  save  them 
from  the  black  pit  in  which  they  were  about  to  plunge." 

"  Thank  God  !  Thank  God !  "  ejaculated  Robinson, 
burying  his  face  in  his  hands,  while  his  whole  body 
shook  with  suppressed  emotion.  Mrs.  Robinson  raised 
her  eyes  to  Brooks,  careless  of  the  falling  tears,  and  half 
extended  her  hands  resting  on  the  table  ,  pride,  gratitude, 
and  thankfulness  struggling  for  mastery.  Half  the 
women  in  the  audience  were  sobbing ;  and  all  but  one 
of  those  present  were  more  or  less  affected.  Billings 
was  the  solitary  exception.  He  sat  bolt  upright,  scan- 
dalized and  shocked.  Nothing  so  improper,  so  illegal,  so 
unprofessional  had  he  ever  known  before. 

In  a  few  additional  words,  passionless  yet  full  of 
repressed  feeling  for  Robinson,  Brooks  ended  his  speech, 
leaving  upon  the  minds  of  every  one  who  was  listening, 
including  the  defendant,  the  firm  conviction  that  a 
verdict  of  guilty  would  be  a  triumphant  vindication  of 
the  accused,  and  an  act  of  love  and  mercy  to  all  con- 
cerned. 

The  verdict  was  a  forgone  conclusion.  The  judge 
charged  briefly,  merely  emphasizing  the  point  that  the 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  67 

jury  should  think  only  of  the  facts  and  whether  the 
allegations  in  the  indictment  had  been  proven  by  the 
testimony,  leaving  all  other  questions  to  the  court. 

"  Have  you  anything  to  say  why  sentence  should  not 
be  pronounced  ? "  asks  the  judge  kindly,  as  Robinson 
stands  at  the  bar. 

"  Nothing,  your  honor,  except  that  I  shall  never  cease 
to  thank  you  all  for  the  kindness  shown  to  me ;  and  my 
Heavenly  Father  that  Mr.  Brooks  has  done  what  he  did. 
He  has  shown  me  my  error,  and  I  would  much  prefer 
to  be  punished  than  to  have  been  left  to  sin." 

"  You  have  the  sympathy  of  the  court,  of  the  jury, 
and  of  all  who  have  listened  to  the  case.  Your  offence 
is  purely  a  technical  one.  Under  the  circumstances  I 
consider  it  proper  to  impose  the  lowest  sentence — one 
year's  imprisonment." 

As  Billings  makes  no  motion,  Brooks  whispers  to  a 
young  lawyer,  and  the  latter,  coming  forward  to  the  rail, 
asks  the  court  to  grant  a  stay.  The  judge  looks  at 
Brooks,  who  whispers  to  him  for  a  minute,  and  then 
paralyzes  Billings  by  granting  it. 


There  are  three  passengers  on  the  9.15  train. — Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Smith  and  Mrs.  Robinson — who  exchange  at 
Rome  to  the  express  from  Chicago  to  New  York. 

There  is  very  little  conversation  ;  but,  as  they  lie  side 
by  side  in  the  section,  Fanny  puts  her  arm  over  Jane 
and  whispers,  for  the  train  is  motionless  : 

"  I  shall  love  Frank  Brooks  all  my  life.  He  is  the 
best  man  in  the  world." 

"  When  he  sent  your  husband  to  prison  and  made 
you  a  fugitive  from  justice  !  " 

"  But  he  saved  me  from  sin,  and  it  is  not  his  fault.  It 
is  the  law" 


68  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  V. 

The  heart  of  her  husband  trusteth  in  her, 
And  he  shall  have  no  lack  of  spoil. 

Prov.  xxxr,  2. 

HONESTY  is  sometimes  the  best  policy.  The  great 
drawback  is  the  impossibility  of  telling  when.  The  Hon. 
William  Smith  was  too  good  a  politician  to  take  any 
chances,  but  at  the  present  moment,  9.30  A.M.,  as  he 
sits  in  his  pleasant  dining-room,  pretending  to  read  the 
morning  paper  while  awaiting  his  junior  wife's  advent, 
he  feels  like  an  operator  with  his  whole  fortune  invested 
in  a  "  straddle  ;  "  and  desperate  enough  to  commit  any 
folly. 

It  was  not  until  his  senior  wife  and  her  sister  had 
been  safely  housed  at  the  Grand  Union,  and,  after  a  light 
breakfast,  had  gone  to  their  room  for  a  little  rest,  that 
any  thought  of  Mabelle  had  crossed  his  mind.  His 
home  was  not  half-a-dozen  blocks  from  the  hotel,  and 
mechanically  his  steps  had  turned  in  that  direction.  The 
waitress  had  stared  at  him  when  she  entered  to  set 
the  table,  and  had  asked  the  cook  if  she  knew  he  had 
returned;  receiving  the  cook's  usual  morning  snort. 
Why  cooks  always  get  out  of  bed  on  the  wrong  side  is 
a  social  problem  yet  unsolved. 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  nothing.  He  had  not 
even  considered  any  course  of  action.  He  was  in  a 
"  hole,"  a  very  deep  one,  and  that  was  about  all  that  he 
was  perfectly  conscious  of. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  Jr.  G9 

"  Why,  Billy !  "  exclaims  his  wife,  as  she  enters  with 
Gypsy,  "what's  the  matter?  Didn't  the  trout  bite? 
Have  you  and  Frank  quarrelled  at  last?  Or  were  the 
petticoats  shy  ?  " 

"  Business,"  he  replies  briefly.  "  When  did  you  re- 
turn from  Carter's  ?  " 

"  Yesterday." 

They  have  shaken  hands,  and  she  is  standing  beside 
him,  looking  into  his  face. 

"  You  look  worried.  Is  it  anything  about  money  ?  " 
she  asks  kindly. 

"No,"  he  replies,  unguardedly ;  "but  something  I 
want  your  advice  about." 

He  had  had  no  intention  the  second  before  of  men- 
tioning the  matter  to  her.  The  kind  voice  had  been  a 
straw  at  which  he  had  unconsciously  grasped. 

"  Well,"  she  replies,  taking  her  seat  and  ringing  the 
bell,  "  we  will  let  it  wait  till  after  breakfast.  It  can't 
be  anything  very  serious.  You  let  little  things  disturb 
you  and  never  worry  over  great  ones.  You  came  in  on 
the  night  train  and  have  had  your  breakfast,  I  suppose ; 
but  take  a  cup  of  tea  with  us." 

A  light  smile  is  on  Smith's  lips  as  he  takes  his  seat, 
grimly  thinking  of  the  "  little  thing"  he  has  on  his  mind. 

"Well,  Gyp,  how  did  you  pass  the  Fourth?  " 

"There  was  no  noise,"  replies  his  sister,  languidly. 

She  is  a  young  lady  of  very  uncertain  age  when  you 
look  at  her  face  or  watch  her  manner — anywhere  between 
twelve  and  twenty.  Look  down  at  the  inch  of  black 
stocking  between  her  boot-tops  and  the  hem  of  her  dress, 
and  you  know  she  is  between  fourteen  and  sixteen. 

"  And  is  that  all  you  can  say?" 

"  That's  all  there  is  to  say.     There  were  two  children 


70  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

there,  who  served  the  purpose  of  children  well  enough ; 
they  annoyed  visitors.  And  there  was  no  noise.  I  can 
think  of  nothing  else." 

His  sister  always  amuses  Smith.  "  There  was  a 
nephew  also.  Where  does  he  come  in  ?  " 

"  Nowhere.  He  made  love  to  his  aunt,  and  flirted 
with  Belle  under  his  aunt's  nose.  She  was  as  jealous  as 
sin,  and  it  was  amusing  for  an  hour ;  but  one  gets  tired 
of  the  same  scene  and  the  same  actors  when  it  lasts 
longer,  and  is  only  talk.  The  entertainment  is  too 
cheap.  I  went  to  sleep." 

"  You  have  a  different  story  to  tell  ?  "  Smith  turns  to 
his  wife. 

"  Indeed  I  have.  I  enjoyed  myself  very  much.  The 
air  was  heavenly  ;  the  weather  delicious ;  and  Dick  was 
charming." 

Smith  looks  at  his  sister  and  laughs. 

"  A  very  little  satisfies  Belle,"  she  says  wearily. 
"She  finds  tongues  in  trees  and  sermons  in  stones  and 
something  to  laugh  at  in  the  most  commonplace." 

"  That's  the  first  quotation  I  ever  heard  you  make.  I 
never  saw  you  read  a  book  in  my  life." 

"  It  isn't  right.  There's  something  that  should  be  in 
it  about  books  and  brooks  that  I  don't  remember.  I 
heard  it  read  in  school."  She  is  aggrieved. 

"  Tell  me  honestly,  Sis,  when  did  you  find  out  that 
your  dolls  were  stuffed  with  saw-dust  ?  " 

"  I  never  had  a  doll  in  my  life,  and  you  know  it." 
Now  she  is  indignant.  "  And  dolls  are  not  stuffed  with 
sawdust,"  she  added.  'k  I  bought  one  to  take  up  for  one 
of  those  children,  and  they  pulled  it  to  pieces  the  first 
hour.  It  was  stuffed  with  cotton." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Smith,  with  a  sigh  as  of  relief.     "  Now  I 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  7J 

see  where  the  very  young  ladies  of  the  present  day  get 
their  first  lesson  in  art.  But  when  did  you  learn  that 
the  world  was  hollow  ?  " 

"Years  ago  in  school.  Every  thing  is  like  everything 
else.  It  don't  matter  much  what  happens.  It  is  just 
what  would  be  if  nothing  should  have  happened.  There 
are  no  heroes  any  more ;  nothing  that  we  read  about  or 
heard  about  in  school  ;  and  I  don't  believe  there  ever 
was  anything  of  the  kind.  People  were  just  as  common- 
place then  as  a  mob  on  a  Coney  Island  boat  is  now." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  your  ideal  hero,  the  fairy  prince 
you  dream  about." 

"  I  haven't  any.  I  don't  dream.  There's  only  one 
man  in  the  world  I  would  care  to  talk  to  for  five  min- 
utes or  to  have  introduced  to  me — and  that's  John  L. 
Sullivan." 

"  You  may  get  over  that  later,"  laughs  Belle.  "  You 
may  come  to  a  time,  Gypsy,  when  you  will  be  glad  to 
have  even  Dr.  Deems  or  Lester  Wallack  talk  to  you  for 
half  an  hour." 

Gypsy  shivers. 

"  Pray  don't  suggest  anything  so  horrid,"  she  says 
rising.  "  If  you  will  excuse  me  I  will  take  Chump  out 
for  a  walk." 

The  three  go  iipstairs  together,  for  it  is  the  typical 
New  York  house,  soap-box  model  standing  on  end,  with 
the  side  to  the  street.  The  dining-room  is  the  front 
basement.  But  behind  the  two  long  parlors — "draw- 
ing-room "  is  not  the  proper  word — there  is  an  extension 
which  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  and  most  restful  rooms 
in  New  York.  This  is  Mrs.  Smith's,  into  which  no  foot 
may  come  without  an  invitation.  There  are  books  and 
pictures  and  a  statuette  or  two  ;  but  its  charm  is  in  its 


72  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

couches  and  easy-chairs.  It  is  a  shrine  to  Beauty,  Com- 
fort, Rest.  There  is  nothing  handsome  and  nothing 
pretty  and  nothing  to  admire — nothing  to  "  show ;  "  but 
there  is  rest  and  comfort  for  the  tired  eye  or  the  wearied 
body  or  the  irritated  nerve.  And  there  is  the  beauty 
that  gratifies  the  hunger  of  the  soul.  It  is  not  a  boudoir  ; 
to  call  it' such  were  desecration.*  It  is  a  retreat. 

"  Now  tell  me  what  is  on  your  mind,  Billy  ?  "  She 
has  shown  him  a  little  picture  that  had  been  sent  home 
in  his  absence,  and  he  has  caught  the  beauty  of  the  set- 
ting. 

"  I  met  Jane  at  Watertown." 

"  Sit  down  and  tell  me   about  it." 

She  is  grave  and  shocked,  but  listens  intently  to  the 
story.  He  tells  it  fully,  exactly  as  it  happened,  and  the 
very  simplicity  of  his  words  makes  his  description  ex- 
ceedingly dramatic.  His  grasp  of  the  facts,  his  power 
of  presentation,  show  that  Brooks'  judgment  is  correct. 

"  So  you  took  them  to  the  hotel  and  came  straight  to 
me,"  she  says,  with  a  faint  flush. 

She  has  been  standing  by  the  mantel  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  story,  with  her  face  half  averted. 

*  Properly  speaking,  a  boudoir  is  a  harem,  fitted  up  for  the  exclusive  use 
of  a  single  wife  or  concubine  and  lier  female  attendants  and  eunuchs, 
to  which  her  husband  is  the  only  male  admitted.  Among  Occidental 
nations  it  takes  the  place  of  the  harem  in  the  East,  and  is  the  "  survi- 
val "  of  the  latter  among  nations  that  have  reduced  the  number  of  wives 
to  one.  It  is  not  out  of  place  in  an  English  house,  where  the 
wife  is  the  private  and  personal  property  of  the  husband;  but  in 
America,  where  she  is  in  all  respects  the  social  and  political  equal  of 
the  husband,  the  wife  who  apes  the  Oriental  slavery  of  women  by 
fitting  up  one  for  herself,  is  on  an  equal  footing  with  the  man  who 
builds  a  summer  house  in  the  country  in  exact  imitation  of  a  sixth 
century  "castle,"  with  moat  and  drawbridge.  A  husband's  den  might 
as  properly  be  fitted  upon  the  model  of  a  Thibetan  andron  aud  given 
its  name. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  73 

There  is  only  a  step  between  them.  She  takes  it, 
stands  beside  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  sits  down  up- 
on his  knees,  but  facing  him,  her  hands  resting  lightly 
upon  his  shoulders,  her  eyes  looking  into  his.  She  bends 
and  lightly  touches  his  forehead  with  her  lips. 

Honesty  has  been  the  best  policy — by  a  fluke.  Never 
before  in  their  married  life  had  she  voluntarily  kissed 
him  ;  never  before  had  she  had  any  reason  to  trust  him 
— or  distrust  him  for  that  matter.  She  knew  what  he 
was.  He  had  taken  infinite  pains  to  show  her  the  vilest 
side  of  man. 

"  Whoso  findeth  a  wife,  findeth  a  good  thing."  She 
looks  into  his  eyes,  at  herself,  and  smiles  at  the  thought. 

Smith,  to  whom  the  wisdom  of  Solomon  is  unknown, 
looks  a  little  perplexed.  His  wife  has  long  ago  grown 
beyond  him.  Her  moods  and  tenses  are  like  the  sum- 
mer wind  when  it  woos,  and  he  had  told  the  literal 
truth  when  he  had  said  that  he  had  been  "  nearly 
mashed  on  her  "  himself.  If  he  had  told  the  whole  truth 
he  would  have  said  that  he  had  run  away  from  her 
influence  to  "  keep  from  making  a  fool  of  himself." 
Eminently  practical,  he  imagined  that  he  never  indulged 
in  any  of  old  Bill  Allen's  barren  idealities,  and  had 
caught  himself  tripping  in  a  quarter  where  such  a  thing 
was  unexpected. 

There  was  not  another  woman  whom  he  had  ever  met 
that  he  would  have  run  away  from.  It  was  the  first 
thing  of  the  kind,  lie  said  to  himself,  that  he  had  ever 
"  thrown  over  his  shoulder."  But  all  others  had  been, 
and  all  others  would  be,  simple  questions  in  practical 
politics — how  much  he  could  get.  This  was  something 
entirely  different ;  something  in  which  he  had  had  no 
experience — a  question  of  how  much  he  could  give,  lie 
was  wise,  so  he  ran  a\vav. 


74  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

She  smiles  at  his  confusion.  '•  Xow  that  you  have 
found  her,  Billy,  what  do  you  propose  doing  with  her  ?  '' 

"  I  haven't  thought  anything  about  it.  What  shall 
I  do  ?  What  can  I  do  ?  " 

"  They  are  all  poor  ?  " 

"  As  church  mice." 

"  You  must  support  her.  You  must  make  her  just  as 
happy  and  comfortable  as  she  can  be.  That's  the  first 
thing.  I  will  take  charge  of  the  sister.  She  shall  be 
my  expense." 

"  And  you  won't  object  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I,  Billy  ?  She  is  your  legal,  lawful 
wife.  She  has  not  only  a  prior  claim,  but  a  higher 
claim.  You  loved  her,  and  you  never  loved  me.  You 
love  her  still.  When  you  found  her  you  forgot  all  about 
me  for  hours.  Don't  deny  it.  Your  color  is  a  confes- 
sion." 

"  But,"  he  says,  impelled  out  of  all  usual  caution,  lie 
does  not  understand  by  what,  "  I  want  you  to  distinctly 
understand,  Belle,  that  I  would  not  have  your  little  fin- 
ger ache  for  such  as  these  ;  that  I  am  ready  to  do  what- 
ever you  think  right  and  proper;  but  that  I  will -not  lose 
or  exchange  you  for  all  the  woman  I  ever  loved  or  ever 
will  love.  You  are  worth  all  the  other  women  in  the  world 
put  together.  There  is  not  one  like  you,  no,  not  one. 
I  found  this  out  nearly  two  years  ago.  I  haven't  said 
anything  about  it  to  you — it  seemed  to  me  an  imperti- 
nence. I  have  appreciated  the  fact  more  highly  than  you 
have  any  idea  of.  If  I  could  blot  out  those  first  two 
years,  I  would  be  a  different  man,  for  I  know  the  bar- 
rier they  raise  up  between  us ;  but  that  is  impossible. 
They  have  robbed  you  of  all  the  delight  of  girlhood  and 
stolen  the  joys  of  womanhood  that  should  be  just  un- 


IT  IS  THE  LA  \r.  75 

folding.  It,  is  the  only  crime  I  ever  had  on  my  con- 
science, and  lately  I  have  been  thinking  that  it  has  per- 
haps been  in  a  measure  condoned.  Don't  suggest  any- 
thing that  will  part  us,  or  anything  that  will  come  be- 
tween us." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  prefer  me  to  your 
boyhood's  sweetheart,  the  woman  you  love  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do.  As  I  prefer  Frank  to  all  men  in  the 
world,  so  I  prefer  you  to  all  women." 

There  was  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  his  sincerity,  and 
it  certainly  pleased  her.  In  fact,  she  was  nattered  at 
the  whole  affair  more  than  she  had  any  reason  to  be  if 
she  had  known  the  exact  truth. 

"  Why  ?  "  It  was  asked  through  curiosity,  not  co- 
quetry. 

"  I  don't  know.  Honestly,  I  don't  know.  Perhaps 
it's  because  you  have  brains ;  because  you  read  and 
think  of  things  which  never  concern  me  ;  because  you 
lead  a  totally  different  life  to  mine,  and  we  two  make  a 
day  and  a  night  together." 

"  But  you  used  to  tell  me  that  you  only  cared  for 
high-bosomed  maids,  that  unless  a  woman  was — " 

44  And  I  don't  now,"  he  interrupts.  "And  I  don't 
suppose  I  ever  will.  It's  my  nature.  It  was  because 
Jane  was  my  ideal  of  the  perfect  woman  that  I  fell  in 
love  with  her  and  married  her.  If  she  had  been  squint- 
eyed,  I  should  not.  If  she  had  been  thin-shanked,  I 
should  not.  But  you  are  independent  of  any  question 
of  physical  perfection.  Such  an  idea  never  arises  with 
a  thought  of  you,  in  any  one's  mind.  You  seem  singled 
out  from  all  the  other  women  in  the  world  ;  to  be  »ui 
generia.  You  charm  by  some  other  means." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure,  Billy,  you  could  not  have  loved 


70  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

her  if  she  had  been  thin-shanked  ?  We  will  take  the 
squint  for  granted." 

She  is  amused.  She  ought  not  to  have  been.  It  was 
highly  indecorous  ;  but  she  was  alone  with  her  husband, 
and  she  was  only  a  moral  woman,  not  the  "  good " 
woman  found  in  novels  only — or  perhaps  in  heaven — 
never  on  earth. 

"You  know  I  did  not  even  think  of  you  when  I 
spoke."  He  is  distressed,  and  she  laughs  softly. 

"  Never  mind,  Billy,  don't  make  it  worse.  The  fault 
is  not  often  incurable  in  the  young.  To  return  to  our 
ewes.  Why  not  put  them  in  Mrs.  Lyons'  flat  in  the 
Thirtieth  Street  house.  It  is  a  little  gem  of  seven 
rooms,  exquisitely  furnished,  and  she  wishes  to  sell  the 
furniture  as  it  stands — everything  except  her  wardrobe. 
She  is  going  abroad  for  two  or  three  years,  and  will  sell 
it  at  half  the  cost  of  refurnishing  in  a  much  cheaper  way. 
Everything  is  in  such  perfect  taste  that  it  will  save 
them  trouble  and  embarrassment." 

"  But  that  will  be  expensive  !  " 

"  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  expensive  enough,  if  any- 
thing. She  is  your  wife.  You  are  not  worried  for 
money.  Even  if  you  are,  save  on  something  else.  A 
man  who  keeps  two  wives  must  expect  to  pay  for  the 
privilege." 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  cost  me  nothing  ?  "  he  asks, 
after  a  moment's  pause. 

She  colors.  She  has  never  had  occasion  to  ask  him 
for  a  dollar,  and  no  question  of  money  has  ever  been 
discussed  between  them.  Her  allowance  has  always 
been  more  than  she  wanted,  and  she  has  a  large  sum  in 
the  bank,  in  her  own  name,  subject  to  her  order,  from 
the  surplus  he  has  refused  to  take  back. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  77 

"•  When  we  were  married,"  he  continued,  "  I  was  at 
the  end  of  my  rope,  and  financially  ruined.  Your  for- 
tune came  just  in  time  to  save  me.  I  never  used  a 
dollar  for  myself ;  I  never  risked  a  cent  in  speculations. 
It  is  all  locked  up  in.  trust  funds  or  real  estate,  exactly 
where  your  mother  left  it.  But  the  mere  possession  of 
it,  the  fact  that  I  could  rob  you  if  I  were  scamp  enough 
to,  gave  me  credit.  Nobody  expected  me  to  be  honest, 
and  I  did  not  injure  myself  by  encouraging  the  idea 
that  I  was.  The  credit  tided  me  over  the  worst  part, 
and  I  used  it  for  all  it  was  worth  afterward.  I  am  worth 
about  one-third  what  you  are,  and  I  owe  it  all  to  you. 
The  money  to  support  this  house,  whatever  you  spend, 
comes  from  your  estate ;  all  other  expenses,  the  Rose- 
dale  house  and  whatever  I  spend,  from  mine.  You  are 
perfectly  right,  and  I  will  hereafter  have  the  expenses 
of  this  house  charged  to  my  account." 

"  No,  you  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  I  never 
thought  that  my  words  could  be  so  taken.  You  will 
distress  me  beyond  measure  if  you  do.  Such  a  thought 
as  that  I  had  any  property  of  my  own  has  hardly  ever 
come  to  me.  Let  me  continue  to  cost  you  nothing." 

He  shakes  his  head. 

"  Now  that  the  subject  is  up,  let  me  say  that  I  have 
been  intending  for  some  time  to  speak  to  you  about  it. 
1  have  felt  as  if  it  were  your  house,  not  mine,  and  that  I 
might  come  home  some  night  and  find  my  trunks  on 
the  sidewalk  and  the  door  locked.  A  wife  need  not 
live  with  her  husband  unless  she  wishes  to.  Did  you 
know  that  ?  " 

"And  where  do  I  come  in  ?  Am  I  to  have  a  husband 
who  costs  me  nothing — in  fact  who  supports  me  ?  Go 
to,  my  uncle.  That  is  not  modern  marriage.  Have  I  not 


78  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

equal  rights  and  equal  sensitiveness  on  such  a  question  ? 
But  I  will  be  good  and  yielding,  as  a  dutiful  wife  ought 
to  be.  I  will  compromise  with  you.  Let  us  spend  our 
own  money  as  we  have  been  doing,  and  divide  ex- 
penses on  the  house — just  as  if  I  were  Frank.  Please, 
Billy  !  Please,  Uncle  William  !  " 

The  last  two  words  produce  the  desired  result.  He 
yields. 

"  You  know  that  I  would  let  you  do  anything  rather 
than  Lave  you  call  me  that." 

It  is  a  growl,  at  which  she  laughs. 

"  And  now  that  I  have  reduced  my  household  expenses 
one-half — a  good  morning's  work — I  will  tell  you  that 
I  propose  applying  the  money  to  Fanny.  I  will  set  her 
up  in  some  business  for  which  she  is  fitted.  Tell  me 
about  her — all  you  know." 

"  She  is  about  your  height,  rather  dark  than  fair,  with 
particularly  bright  eyes,  and  a  sweet,  refined  face.  She 
has  some  musical  talent.  She  was  organist  and  soprano 
in  the  choir — and  she  was  the  district-school  teacher  be- 
fore marriage." 

Belle  muses  for  a  moment.  "  I  think  I  shall  like 
her." 

"  You  don't  ask  me  about  Jane." 

"  It  is  not  necessary.     I  can  see  her." 

"  Tell  me  what  you  think  she  is  like." 

"  She  is  quite  fair.  Her  hair  is  brown.  She  is 
twenty-eight  years  old,  so  she  has  filled  out  and  is  get- 
ting stout.  She  has  a  twenty-six  inch  waist,  a  forty- 
two  inch  bust,  and  a  twenty  inch  shank.  At  forty  she 
will  be  a  Mullingar  heifer — beef  to  the  heels ;  but  at 
present  she  is  what  you  have  so  often  described  to  me 
as  a  '  delicious  armful.'  I  think  she  is  ten  or  twenty 


IT  IS  THE  LA  IF.  70 

pounds  heavier  than  your  idea  of  an  angel,  and  that  if 
she  sat  on  your  knee  for  an  hour  you  would  admit  it 
at  once." 

She  has  hit  the  mark  as  closely  as  if  she  had  studied 
Jane  for  hours.  He  laughs  uneasily. 

"  But  you  haven't  seen  her.  How  can  you  tell  ? 
Are  you  a  clairvoyant?  " 

"  I  know  your  ideal  at  sixteen,  and  what  it  is  at 
twenty-eight.  It  is  simple  enough.  All  you  care  foi- 
ls flesh.  You  love  through  your  eyes."  . 

He  is  hurt.  "  That's  not  fair.  So  do  poets  and 
sculptors." 

"  No.  They  admire  through  their  eyes  and  love 
through  their  intellect.  They  regard  outside  beauty  only 
as  the  casket  covering  beauty  of  mind  and  soul.  Their 
love  is  kept  for  what  it  contains.  You  admire  a  beau- 
tiful dress  on  a  beautiful  woman — particularly  when  it 
enhances  the  beauty  that  it  does  not  conceal ;  but  hang 
it  upon  a  spike,  put  it  on  a  bean  pole,  and  you  would 
laugh.  Yet  you  have  made  the  flesh  covering  the 
woman  your  only  worship.  You  have  loved  twenty 
women,  but  you  have  never  yet  been  satisfied  with 
any.  You  have  found  mere  beauty  of  form — and  it 
has  been  grossness  rather  than  beauty — a  will-o'-the- 
wisp.  You  never  admit  it,  but  I  know  it.  That's  what 
your  constant  changes  mean.  Now  you  have  brains, 
and  I  predict  this  fate  for  you,  Billy.  Some  time  you 
will  meet  a  thin,  lean  woman,  between  thirty-five  and 
fifty,  without  shape  or  form  ;  not  hideous  and  not  fair, 
but  with  beautiful  eyes  revealing  a  lovely  soul ;  a 
woman  of  intellect.  You  will  worship  her.  You  will 
become  her  slave.  Your  love  for  her  will  last  the  rest 
of  your  life.  A  kiss  from  her  will  mean  more  and  be 


80  IT  IS  THE  LA  IF. 

more  highly  prized  than  all  the  favors  combined  that 
you  ever  received.  You  will  look  back  with  wonder  on 
your  past  as  incomprehensible." 

"And  what  fate  will  come  to  you?"  There  is  a 
curious  tone  in  his  voice  she  does  not  notice.  She  is 
thinking  of  something. 

"  I  ?  O,  I  shall  fall  in  love  with  some  idiot,  break 
my  heart,  become  a  woman  of  high  fashion,  and  set  the 
example  of  extreme  propriety  for  all  the  others  to 
follow." 

Her  words  rasp  him.  "  Don't  talk  like  that.  It  hurts 
me." 

"  Don't  you  think  you  deserve  a  little  pain  for  asking 
such  a  question  ?  But  there's  a  curious  complication 
you  haven't  explained.  What  are  you  going  to  do  with 
Mr.  Greene  ?  Who  is  he,  and  where  is  he  ?  You  didn't 
bring  him  with  you.  Is  he  to  come  on  later  ?  Is  Jane 
to  have  two  husbands,  and  are  you  to  have  two  wives  ? 
and  shall  I  have  to  marry  Greene  to  even  up  matters  ? 
Or  must  he  and  I  remain  as  we  are  ?  Discuss  that 
unto  me." 

She  leaned  back  in  her  easy-chair,  her  hands  behind 
her  head,  one  slender  foot  resting  on  the  brass  fender. 

Smith  made  no  answer  for  a  moment.  Then  he  broke 
out  :  "  Curse  him  !  he  is  the  fly  in  the  ointment." 

She  looks  at  him  with  a  smile  in  which  there  is  mal- 
ice. She  has  kept  the  sting  back  until  she  has  had 
provocation. 

"  He  was  a  clerk  in  the  village  store, "  he  con- 
tinues. "  Two  weeks  before  the  trial  he  went  to  Rome  to 
make  some  purchases  and  pay  a  mortgage  of  six  hun- 
dred dollars.  He  '  skipped '  with  the  money,  and  has 
not  been  heard  from  since.  That's  all  I  know  about 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  81 

him.  His  photograph,  which  I  saw,  shows  the  sneak  in 
every  line  of  his  face." 

"  How  long  has  Jane  lived  with  him  ?  " 

"  Nearly  two  years." 

"  And  how  long  did  you  live  with  Jane  ?  " 

She  is  merciless. 

"  Three  months." 

He  is  impatient.  She  asks  no  more.  She  lets  the 
inflammation  rise. 

"  Well,"  he  says,  "  why  don't  you  continue  the  cross- 
examination  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  suppose  you  liked  it." 

"  I  don't.  No  witness  does.  Finish  it  now  and  get 
through  with  it." 

"  If  he  comes  back  and  claims  Jane,  what  will  you 
do  ?  " 

"  He  is  welcome  to  take  and  keep  her,"  he  says  sav- 
agely. 

"  Then  you  object  to  sharing  her  with  him  ?  " 

The  question  is  a  careless  half-affirmation. 

He  checks  the  outburst  barely  in  time,  flushes  to  the 
hair  with  shame,  for  he  sees  the  hidden  drift,  and  does 
not  answer. 

A  man  is  never  satisfied  with  a  victory.  A  woman  is 
— and  she  is  a  woman  to  the  very  nails. 

When  the  stillness  has  grown  oppressive,  she  asks, 
"  You  will  have  to  change  your  plans  for  the  summer. 
I  intended  to  start  for  Chicago  to-morrow  night,  but  if 
you  need  me,  I  will  stay  a  few  days  to  help  you  make 
Jane  comfortable." 

"  Then  stay.     I  do  need  you." 

"  I  will  not  l>e  a  killjoy,  a — " 

"  Stop,"  he  interrupts  sternly.    "  Drop  that  cynicism, 
6 


82  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

Mabelle,  which,  thank  God,  I  know  is  not  natural.  I 
taught  it  to  you,  to  my  shame  and  bitter  sorrow.  I  en- 
deavored to  break  down  the  prejudices  and  traditions 
that  make  women  shrink  from  the  natural  man,  to 
familiarize  you  with  and  to  cauterize  your  Derceptions 
of  the  vices  of  my  sex.  You  were  such  a  sweet  and 
dainty  prude,  so  horrified  at  everything,  that  the  temp- 
tation came  and  was  irresistible.  I  have  failed,  Mabelle. 
With  the  child  I  may  have  succeeded  in  holding  them 
in  check  by  main  strength,  but  in  the  woman,  you  know 
that  by  natural  revulsion  they  have  reasserted  themselves 
with  stronger  force,  and  that  what  the  natural  woman, 
what  under  other  circumstances  even  you  might  have 
tolerated,  you  now  shrink  from  with  abhorrence.  You 
try  to  deceive  me  when  you  smile  at  them — and  worse 
than  them.  Unless  you  still  hate  me  with  the  bitter, 
black  hatred  that  once  filled  your  heart — a  hatred  for 
which  I  honor  you — you  will  never  let  me  hear  again 
such  false  and  untrue  words  from  your  lips.  I  know 
that  your  cynicism  is  but  a  mask,  your  complaisance 
but  a  cloak  which  your  pride  compels  you  to  wear  in 
order  that  I  may  be  tormented  with  the  thought  that  I 
have  succeeded  in  making  the  Frankenstein  monster 
which  my  work  would  have  resulted  in  with  any  other 
child.  I  know  that  you  are  a  good  and  noble  woman, 
robbed  of  the  illusions  of  youth,  and  saddened  by  knowl- 
edge that  never  should  have  been  given  you.  I  know 
that  I  am  unworthy  your  companionship.  When  you 
plunge  down  to  my  level,  to  meet  me,  it  is  in  scorn  and 
derision — to  punish  me  by  showing  what  I  wanted  you 
to  be.  Never  do  it  again  ;  never !  Help  me  rather  to 
come  to  you.  You  shall  not  come  down  into  the  mud 
and  filth  where  I  am.  You  shall  not,  I  say." 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  83 

She  sat  and  listened,  with  dry  eyes  and  burning  cheeks, 
looking  down  at  her  fingers  lacing  and  interlacing  as 
they  lay  in  her  lap.  It  was  a  new  phase  of  her  husband's 
character — a  revelation  as  surprising  as  it  was  unex- 
pected. She  knew  that  what  he  had  said  was  true. 
She  knew  that  she  loathed  in  her  mind  whatever  was 
untrue  to  the  highest  standards  of  right ;  that  she  had 
given  way  to  many  temptations  to  sin  against  the  tradi- 
tions of  her  sex  in  order  to  punish  him.  He  had  wanted 
her  to  be  "  without  prejudice,"  and  she  would  be,  she 
had  said  to  herself. 

"  What  would  you  have  me  be  ?  "  The  voice  is  so  low 
he  can  hardly  hear  it. 

"  Yourself.  Your  own  sweet,  true,  noble  self.  To 
me  and  to  the  world  what  you  are  alone  with  your  own 
mind.  The  very  gates  of  Hell  could  not  prevail  against 
the  inborn  purity  and  refinement  of  your  nature.  Do 
not  wear  this  mask  longer.  Drop  it  before  its  use 
becomes  natural." 

u  Is  it  not  too  late,  Billy,  for  me  to  be  anything  but 
what  in  times  past  you  have  wished  me  to  be  ?  Is  it 
not  too  late  now  to  make  the  change  from  that  which 
the  years  have  made  natural  ?  You  mistake,  I  fear,  my 
powers  of  resistance  to  such  influences — and  it  is  too 
late  to  retrace  our  steps."  Her  words  are  gentle,  long- 
ing, sad.  They  chill  him  to  the  heart. 

"  No,  Mabelle,  your  heart  tells  you  not.  You  have 
passed  through  fire  and  been  refined;  through  tempta- 
tion and  been  made  strong  ;  through  sin  and  been  sanc- 
tified. You  have  learned  in  a  brief  month  of  innocent 
childhood  that  knowledge  of  man's  vileness  and  brutal- 
ity which  comes  gradually  and  by  degrees  through  years 
pf  experience  to  all  women.  Much  knowledge  is  much 


84  IT  18  THE  LAW. 

sorrow,  but  that  very  sorrow  has  wrought  you  a  crown, 
which  you  wear  unconsciously,  that  commands  the  re- 
spect and  admiration  of  the  world.  Frank  calls  you 
Proserpine,  and  you  are — the  queen  of  rest  for  the 
weary  and  troubled  soul." 

She  smiles  at  him — not  in  return  for  his  compliment, 
but  at  the  new  man. 

"  Ah !  Billy,  you  forgot  that 

'  Knowledge  is  but  sorrow's  spy, 
It  is  not  safe  to  know,' 

when  you  loaded  down  my  young  soul  with  a  burden 
which  other  women  carry  piece  by  piece  in  their  strength 
and  age." 

"•  That  is  true,"  he  replies,  earnestly,  "  of  all  things  as 
well  as  this ;  but  you  have  no  fear  of  knowledge,  no 
dread  of  the  sorrow  that  comes  from  the  truth. 

'  From  ignorance  our  comfort  flows  : 
The  only  wretched  are  the  wise.' 

But  which  do  you  choose,  Mabelle  ?  You  are  brave 
and  true.  You  would  not  exchange  the  wretchedness 
of  wisdom  or  the  sorrow  of  knowledge  for  the  bliss  of 
ignorance — except  in  this  one  thing.  Because  as  a 
child  you  ate  of  the  tree  of  knowledge  of  Evil,  and 
sorrow  has  come,  you  need  not  treat  it  differently  from 
other  knowledge.  The  sorrow  may  be  greater,  keener ; 
but  not  different  in  kind,  only  in  degree." 

"  I  have  touched  pitch,  Billy,"  she  says,  gently. 

He  knows  her  too  well  to  misunderstand. 

"  But  you  have  not  been  defiled,"  he  replies,  earnestly. 
"  When,  two  years  ago,  a  chance  word  brought  me  to  a 
realizing  sense  of  my  insanity — you  know  that  for  two 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  85 

years  past  I  have  never  said  a  word  in  your-  presence, 
or  told  you  a  story,  or  made  a  suggestion  that  would  not 
be  proper  anywhere,  at  any  time,  to  the  primmest  of 
prudes — my  only  comfort  was  that  I  had  failed  abso- 
lutely." 

"  I  did  not  know — I  did  not  dream  that  you  had — 
changed.  I  have  been  much  happier  the  past  two  years. 
But  I  thought  the  reason  why  you  kept  more  know- 
ledge from  me  was  because  there  was  nothing  new  that 
was — vile — to  tell  me." 

The  words  are  not  meant  as  a  reproach ;  but  they  are 
a  reproach  the  bitterness  of  which  will  last  him  for 
many  a  day. 

"  Can  you  not  forgive  me  for  what  I  have  made  you 
suffer  ?  "  he  asks,  when  he  can  command  himself. 

"  No,  Billy,  I  cannot."  The  answer  is  soft  and  low 
and  kind  ;  but  honest. 

"  Then  you  have  suffered  keenly,  Mabelle  ?  " 

"  Torture — an  hundred  times.  Torture  at  each  time 
and  when  I  recalled  any  one.  Agony  when  I  thought 
what  it  meant." 

"  Met '  agona  ttttphanos, "  he  murmurs  to  himself. 
"  My  poor  child,  your  crown  has  come  as  all  crowns 
must  come ;  yet  I  would  have  you  a  simple  innocent 
child  if  we  could  live  our  lives  over." 

"  But  we  cannot,  Bilty ;  we  must  take  up  the  thread 
of  life  and  reel  it  off.  We  cannot  rewind  it.  It  may 
be  that  it  has  all  been  for  the  best.  What  you  have 
said  is  true.  I  was  thinking  last  night  that  I  would 
like  to  be  a  maiden,  knowing  nothing  of  men  except  that 
they  were  ;  nothing  of  lovers  except  that  somewhere  in 
the  world  there  was  one  riding  to  me  ;  love  and  marriage 
and  life  a  heap  of  shining  clouds  around  me,  into  which 


86  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

I  could  not  see  ;  my  heart  filled  with  vague,  unformed, 
and  unforming  delight — at  what  I  could  not  even  im- 
agine. Then  the  face  and  figure  of  a  man  grew  from 
the  mists  and  took  form  and  shape.  It  was  Sorrow's 
spy.  His  face  was  that  of  the  Shining  One,  and  his 
gentle  eyes,  filled  with  love,  seemed  to  read  down  into 
my  very  soul.  In  the  sighing  of  the  wind,  I  seemed 
to  hear  him  say :  '  I  am  Truth,  my  beloved.  Those 
that  find  me  have  peace  and  rest  for  evermore.  Thou 
hast  sought  me  on  the  hills  of  Lebanon,  and  in  the 
valleys  that  lie  beyond  the  river ;  but  now  I  am  come 
to  thee  and  my  heart  is  thine.  Here  on  my  breast  shalt 
thou  lie  through  life,  and  through  Sheol  will  I  carry 
thee  to  the  city  that  is  built  upon  the  everlasting  hills.' 
Then  he  opened  his  arms,  and  they  closed  upon  me, 
and  a  great  light  came  that  seemed  around  and  about 
and  on  every  side." 

Her  voice  died  away  until  it  was  barely  audible. 

Had  "  one  of  the  boys  "  of  the  William  Smith  Asso- 
ciation of  the  Ninth  Ward  casually  opened  the  door, 
he  would  have  closed  it  softly.  He  would  not  have 
recognized  the  "  boss "  in  the  man  standing  beside 
that  chair,  looking  down  at  the  drooping  head  bowed 
upon  the  soft  cushion. 

Nor  did  she,  as  she  looked  into  the  eyes  of  the  man 
kneeling  beside  her  and  holding  both  her  hands  in 
his. 

"  And  in  your  waking  dreams,  Mabelle,  when  Ignor- 
ance with  its  happiness,  and  Knowledge  with  its  sorrow, 
were  offered  to  chose  from,  you  chose  Sorrow  rather 
than  Happiness." 

"Yes,  Billy.  I  knew  then  why  He  was  called 
the  '  Man  of  Sorrows.'  I  knew  then  that  God  was 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  87 

Truth,  and  Truth  was  Love,  and  Love  was  Knowledge, 
and  Knowledge  was  Sorrow.  In  choosing  Sorrow,  I 
chose  Him.  My  bridegroom  came,  Billy,  and  he  was 
the  Comforter — the  spirit  of  Love,  the  Truth." 

He  kisses  her  fingers  with  a  reverence  that  makes 
her  shy.  It  takes  an  effort  on  her  part  to  look  him  in 
the  face,  and  she  sees  something  there  that  brings  a 
soft  color  to  her  cheek — something  she  has  never  seen 
before  in  the  six  years  of  their  married  life.  It  fills 
her  with  a  gentle  confusion,  for  if  adoration  was  ever 
shown  on  the  face  of  man  it  is  on  his. 

"  But,  Billy,  this  is  not  what  we  are  here  for.  Let  us 
come  down  from  the  clouds  of  philosophy  and  poetry, 
which  you  dislike  so  much " 

"  That  all  depends,  I  discovered  some  time  ago, 
Mabelle,  upon  who  takes  me  there." 

"  Don't  compliment  me,  Billy.  The  next  thing  will 
be "she  stops  and  blushes. 

"What?  "he  asks. 

"  Love-making,  and  that  would  be  ridiculous." 

It  doesn't  seem  the  least  bit  ridiculous  to  him,  and 
the  pain  is  sharp. 

"  Why  should  it  be  ridiculous  ?  " 

"I  am  not  thin  enough  nor  old  enough,  for  the  love 
I  hope  will  sometime  fill  your  heart,  Billy,  for  the 
beauty  that  is  of  the  intellect ;  and  too  thin,  I  am  glad 
to  know,  for  any  other  love — for  such  love  as  pleases 
you  now.  " 

It  is  his  turn  to  crimson.     He  can  make  no  reply. 

"  If  I  put  off  my  journey  to  Chicago,  what  do  you 
wish  me  to  do  ?  What  shall  you  do  about  your  yachting 
cruise  ?  " 

"  Give  it  up.     Will  you  make  a  sacrifice  which  I  have 


88  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

no  right  to  ask  ?  Will  you  remain  with  me  this  summer, 
go  where  I  go,  stay  where  I  stay,  and  stick  '  closer  than 
a  brother'?  I  will,  of  course,  conform  in  all  things  as 
closely  to  your  wishes  and  preferences  as  possible.  You 
can  trust  me  in  that. " 

It  is  a  sudden  resolution  that  forms  in  his  mind.  He 
is  quick-brained,  and  his  staying  powers  are  proverbial 
among  the  sachems. 

"  Have  you  a  strong  reason  for  this  ?  " 

"  Yes.     And  more  than  one." 

"Then  I  will.  But — you  must  not  ask  me — "  her  cheeks 
crimson  with  shame.  There  is  the  sensation  of  a  dozen 
needles  pricking  her  cheeks.  Her  downcast  eyes  see 
nothing.  Her  words  fail.  But  he  understands. 

There  is  silence  for  a  minute.  Then  a  drop  falls 
upon  her  hand.  As  she  looks  up,  her  husband  turns 
his  back  and  walks  across  the-  room.  When  he  comes 
back,  his  face  is  once  more  under  command. 

She  has  her  answer — and  it  fully  satisfies  her. 

"Does  Jane  know  you  have  a  second  wife?"  she 
asks  presently. 

"  Yes,  but  not  when  we  were  married  or  that  you  are 
my  niece.  It  is  not  necessary  to  enlighten  her,  unless 
you  desire  it  particularly." 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  call  on  her  ?  " 

"  With  me,  yes  ;  alone,  no.  If  she  calls  on  you — and 
it  is  her  place  to  do  so — receive  her  or  not,  as  you  like," 

"  Will  you  see  Mrs  Lyons  about  that  flat  to  day  ?  " 

"  This  afternoon,  after  luncheon.  Will  you  begin  to- 
day your  partnership  by  coming  with  me?  I  will  need 
you." 

She  lays  her  hand  in  his,  and  wonders  why  it  trem- 
bles so.  He  holds  hers  firmly. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  89 

"  This  partnership  continues — " 

"  Until  mutually  dissolved,  or  until  one  is  dissatisfied 
and  asks  for  an  accounting.  Is  that  the  legal  way  of 
putting  it?" 

"  Yes.     Will  you  explain  this  snarl  to  Gypsy?  " 

"  Is  it  necessary  for  her  to  know  ?  " 

"  She  will  find  it  out.  She  might  as  well  understand 
the  exact  bald  facts.  She  will  be  sure  to  find  them  out. 
The  truth  will  do  her  no  harm.  It  is  the  law." 


90  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Where  there  is  no  counsel,  purposes  are  disappointed. 

Prov.  xv.  22. 

THERE  are  of  course  abnormal  men  and  women — phy- 
sical "  freaks  "  like  the  bearded  woman  and  the  nursing 
man,  and  moral  "  freaks  "  like  the  truly  good  man  and 
the  perfectly  pure  woman — but  the  vast  majority  are 
made  upon  one  loom  and  from  the  same  materials.  The 
weft  is  Evil  and  the  warp  is  Righteousness.  Whoever 
turns  his  eyes  inward  upon  himself  finds  what  St.  Paul 
found,  a  law  in  his  members  warring  against  the  law  of 
his  mind,  so  that  when  he  would  do  good,  evil  is  present 
with  him,  and  when  he  would  do  evil,  good  stands  be- 
side it  and  closely  joined. 

Since  the  day  when  Truth  took  a  bath  and  had  her 
clothing  stolen,  the  world  lias  been  ashamed  of  her — in 
the  daytime.  At  night  she  may  come  forth  from  the 
well  in  which  she  took  refuge,  and  in  the  darkness  the 
individual  will  listen  to  her  voice  and  pay  her  reverential 
worship.  But  he  who  bows  down  before  her  alone  at 
midnight  will  run  like  a  hare  if  there  is  a  possibility  that 
some  other  worshipper  may  recognize  him,  and  he  will  be 
the  first  to  cast  a  stone  at  her  if  she  but  lifts  her  head 
above  the  kerb  after  sunrise. 

At  night,  alone  with  Truth,  every  man  will  admit  that 
there  is  none  righteous,  no,  not  one  ;  and  if  he  has  wisdom 
he  will  add,  and  none  evil,  no,  not  one.  But  in  the  day- 
time he  stands  in  the  mark'^-ylace  and  proclaims  that 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  91 

the  world  is  divided  into  the  good  and  the  bad ;  into  sheep 
and  goats,  and  that  there  is  a  great  gulf  between 
them.  He  calls  down  blessings  upon  the  teachers  who 
instruct  the  young  that  the  good  are  always  good  and 
the  evil  always  evil;  anathema  upon  those  who  preach 
concord  between  Christ  and  Belial. 

The  warp  and  woof  of  Evil  and  Righteousness  are  so 
closely  woven  in  all  except  moral  freaks  for  moral 
museums,  that  one  cannot  tell  from  one  moment  to  the 
other  whether  he  will  be  swayed^  by  the  law  of  his 
members  or  the  law  of  his  mind.  So  evenly  are  the  two 
constantly  working,  so  perfect  the  adjustment  and  com- 
pensation, that  the  generous  man  will  be  a  thief,  the 
prudent  a  traitor,  the  sweet-tempered  unjust.  The  wife 
alone  knows  how  hard  and  cruel  the  model  husband  may 
be  to  his  children  ;  the  children,  how  mean  and  despic- 
able the  model  father  may  be  to  his  wife.  And  there  is 
no  persistence  and  continuance  in  any  one  course.  The 
thread  is  always  broken  somewhere,  and  sometimes  broken 
often.  The  generous  man  will  be  mean,  the  prudent  rash, 
the  sweet-tempered  sour.  And  when  the  break  in  the 
thread  comes,  none  can  be  so  mean  as  he  who  is  naturally 
generous ;  none  so  rash  as  he  who  is  ordinarily  prudent ;. 
none  so  virtuous  as  he  who  has  been  long  evil ;  none  so 
vile  as  he  who  has  lived  long  in  righteousness. 

The  man  whose  evil  ways  are  not  generally  known  is 
called  good.  The  man  whose  good  ways  are  not  known 
(and  whose  evil  ways  are)  is  called  bad.  There  is  no 
other  test  applied  except  that  of  publicity,  and  the  words 
have  no  other  meaning.  The  evil  ways  are  alike  of  the 
bad  and  the  good  ;  the  righteous  ways  are  alike  of  the 
good  and  bad. 

Whether  William  Smith  was  a  "  good  "  man  or  a  "bad" 


92  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

man  does  not  matter.  The  answer  would  have  depended 
— as  it  does  in  every  case,  whether  asked  of  a  saint  in 
crape  or  a  devil  on  two  sticks — upon  the  degree  of  inti- 
macy with  his  personal  affairs  enjoyed  by  the  one  who 
made  it.  The  truly  wise  man  who  had  never  before 
heard  of  him  would  have  promptly  answered  "  both," 
and  he  alone  would  have  been  right. 

That  William  Smith  was  a  natural  and  ordinary  man, 
without  one  strong  characteristic  differentiating  him  from 
any  other  man,  is  a  very  important  matter.  A  man 
always  acts  in  precisely  the  same  way  under  the  same 
circumstances ;  but  the  same  circumstances  never  happen 
twice  in  any  one  man's  life.  They  may  seem  to,  but 
there  is  always  a  shade  of  difference — if  not  in  them,  in 
the  man  himself.  Two  men  will  never  act  in  the  same 
way  under  the  same  circumstances,  because  no  two  men 
are  alike,  and  the  same  circumstance  combined  with  them 
will  produce  different  effects  ;  but  if  they  are  human  men 
and  not  freaks  they  will  act  in  accordance  with  which- 
ever law  happens  to  be  uppermost  at  the  time — the  law 
of  the  members  or  the  law  of  the  mind.  If  one  kicks 
the  bootblack  and  gives  the  newsboy  a  nickel,  the  prob- 
abilities are  that  the  other  will  give  the  former  the 
nickel  and  the  latter  the  kick. 

What  the  moral  "  freak,"  who  is  truly  good  or  truly 
evil  all  the  days  of  his  life,  may  do  or  leave  undone  is  not 
worth  recording.  His  conduct  has  no  value  to  Immunity. 
It  can  have  no  proper  or  legitimate  interest  for  the 
healthy  mind.  It  is  the  action  of  a  moral  monstrosity 
not  common  enough  to  have  any  influence  upon  or  to  be 
a  factor  in  society — from  which  no  useful  lesson  may  be 
drawn.  Morbid  curiosity  alone  seeks  to  pry  into  the 
private  life  of  the  bearded  woman  and  the  man  with 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  93 

udders  ;  and  morbid  curiosity  alone  pries  into  the  action 
of  such  moral  phenomena  as  "  good  "  men  or  "  pure  " 
women.  Unhealthy  minds  alone  are  interested  in  what 
may  be  discovered. 

It  is  because  no  one — not  even  Smith  himself — could 
actually  foretell  what  he  would  do  under  given  circum- 
stances; because  his  action  would  depend  entirely  upon 
the  state  of  mind,  and  that  again  upon  some  unknown 
and  unobservable  trifle,  that  any  interest  attaches  to 
what  he  did.  And  this  uncertainty  as  to  whether 
any  human  action  will  be  wise  or  unwise,  proper  or 
improper,  evil  or  righteous,  is  the  only  reason  why  legit- 
imate interest  may  be  taken  in  it. 

If  the  wise  were  always  wise,  the  chaste  always 
chaste,  the  honest  always  honest,  there  would  be  no 
more  healthy  curiosity  about  their  action  than  there  is 
in  the  motion  of  a  horse  in  a  cider  press,  or  the  walking 
beam  of  a  steamer ;  and  no  more  interest  in  reading 
about  them  than  there  is  in  reading  about  lines  and 
angles  in  geometry. 

Smith  had  had  no  intention  of  telling  Mabelle  any- 
thing. A  chance  tone  of  voice  had  brought  him  under 
the  law  of  the  mind,  and  he  had  told  the  whole  truth. 
For  years  the  thread  of  indulgence  in  one  evil  thing 
had  run  through  his  life,  and  in  a  moment  it  had  broken 
by  a  sudden  and  accidental  strain.  Whether  the  other 
end  would  ever  be  found  again  was  a  question  of  the 
dim  and  distant  future.  For  the  present,  in  its  place 
he  held  by  pure  accident  the  next  thread  of  Righteous- 
ness. His  course  of  action  had  been  mapped  out  so  far 
as  he  could  foresee,  his  whole  treatment  of  the  situation 
had  been  determined,  by  a  drooping  eyelid  and  a  faint 
flush. 


94  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

For  years  he  had  surrendered  himself  entirely  to  the 
law  of  his  members,  and  he  had  paid  little  or  no  at- 
tention to  any  other.  If  he  had  obeyed  the  other  law, 
the  obedience  had  been  unconscious.  For  half  an  hour 
or  more  he  had  been  incomplete,  voluntary,  and  will- 
ing subjection  to  the  law  of  his  mind,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  a  new  life  had  come  to  him.  It  was  certainly  a 
refreshing  change. 

The  whole  morning  had  been  spent  in  the  explana- 
tion, and  in  rearranging  their  plans  for  the  summer. 
He  had  explained  exactly  what  he  desired  doing  ;  and 
although  she  could  see  no  reason  for  what  he  proposed, 
and  he  volunteered  none,  she  had  acquiesced. 

Gypsy,  whose  baptismal  name  had  been  an  abhorred 
Mary  Ann,  had  knocked  twice  without  receiving  at- 
tention, and  was  on  her  dignity  when  the  luncheon  bell, 
rung  for  the  second  time,  brought  them  to  the  dining- 
room. 

"  Where  did  you  go  ?  "  Mabelle  asks. 

"  To  the  park." 

"  Did  you  not  take  too  long  a  walk?  " 

"  For  Chump  ?  You  need  not  feel  worried  on  his 
account.  I  carried  him  part  of  the  way." 

Mabelle  detests  the  dog,  and  would  be  glad  to  see  it 
in  a  catcher's  wagon.  She  takes  no  notice  of  the 
scratch. 

"  Did  you  meet  anyone  you  knew  ?  " 

"  There's  no  one  in  town  that  I  am  interested  in. 

Mabelle  looks  at  Smith.  The  same  thought  has 
come  to  both — perhaps  because  for  the  first  time  in 
their  lives  they  are  thoroughly  en  rapport.  The  half 
smile  on  his  lip  is  bass  to  the  treble  of  dancing  mischief 
in  her  eyes. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  95 

"  May  I  '  paralyze  '  her  ?  "  she  asks,  sotto  voce. 

"  If  you  can,  "  he  replies,  doubtfully. 

"  Your  sister-in-law  is  in  town.  Billy  brought  her 
last  night  from  Watertown.  Would  you  not  like  to 
meet  her,  Gypsy  ?  " 

"  Did  I  ever  have  any  other  brother  except  you, 
Billy  ?  A  little  more  salad,  please,  Mabelle.  " 

"None  that  lived." 

"  Then  she  is  your  wife.  I  suppose,  Belle,  I  shall 
have  to  do  the  duty  act  and  call,  if  you  insist.  Needs 
must  when  you  or  Billy  drives." 

Smith  laughs  at  Mabelle's  complete  discomfiture. 

"  Have  you  no  curiosity  on  the  subject  ?  Is  it  so  com- 
mon for  a  man  to  have  two  legal  wives  ?  " 

"No,  but  divorces  are  common  enough.  Married 
men  are  divorced  and  remarried  every  day.  Haven't 
you  taken  the  trouble  to  get  a  divorce  from  Mabelle  ?  " 

"  No,''  he  replies,  very  shortly. 

"  Have  you  turned  Mormon,  then  ?  I  don't  know 
what  your  views  are,  Mabelle  ;  but,  in  your  place,  I 
think  I  should  object  to  such  conduct.  She  cannot  be 
perfectly  proper  to  marry  you,  Billy,  without  a  divorce 
from  Mabelle,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  like  her." 

"  Billy  married  her  twelve  years  ago,  and  lost  her 
soon  after,"  Mabelle  explains.  "After  searching  for 
her  for  five  years,  without  finding  her,  he  was  free  to 
marry  again ;  but  he  procured  a  divorce  in  another 
state  on  the  ground  of  desertion,  before  he  married  me. 
He  found  her  yesterday.  The  law  of  this  state  does 
not  recognize  the  divorce  from  her,  and  makes  both 
marriages  legal  and  binding,  but  I  can  have  our  mar- 
/iage  brought  to  an  end  at  any  date,  by  petitioning  a 


96  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

court.*  We  remain  lawful  husband  and  wife  until  I 
do." 

"  Don't  do  it,  Mabelle,  please  don't !  "  She  is  aroused 
and  interested  at  last. 

"Why  not?" 

Smith  looks  down  at  his  plate  and  silently  asks  him- 
self the  question.  He  knows  that  his  fate  is  in  her 
hands,  that  his  divorce  would  have  no  weight  with  a 
first  wife  living,  and  that  any  court  would  grant  her 
petition  instantly  and  without  question.  If  his  one  first 
wife  had  been  a  dozen  he  would  willingly  have  given 
them  all  in  exchange  for  six  months'  delay  in  which 
to  make  atonement  for  the  six  years. 

"Can  you  ask  such  a  question,  Mabelle  ?  Now  we  are 
sisters-in-law,  and  then  you  would  be  my  niece  and  I 
would  be  your  aunt  Mary  Ann  !  " 

The  condensed,  nay,  solid  horror  with  which  she  says 
it  is  too  much  for  both. 

"  I  do  not  see  what  you  are  laughing  at." 

"  I  am  sure  we  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Smith.     "  My 

*  The  appearance  of  the  first  wife  on  the  scene  changes  the  situation 
materially.  Now  the  innocent  third  party  is  entitled  to  relief,  if  she 
desires  it,  and  the  court  is  bound  at  her  application  to  terminate  the 
second  marriage  contract  upon  a  given  date.  But  it  is  not  to  the  in- 
terest of  the  second  wife  to  have  the  second  contract  cancelled.  She 
loses  all  dower  rights  and  support,  not  to  mention  the  social  disabilities 
flowing  from  a  cancellation  of  the  marriage,  which  is  misunderstood 
by  every  one  except  lawyers.  If  she  could  get  a  divorce,  she  would  be 
justified  iu  the  eyes  of  the  world.  A  marriage  that  has  been  cancelled 
is  considered  socially  as  a  reproach,  and  the  relations  under  it  as  little 
different  from  adulterous  ;  while  a  marriage  ended  by  divorce  "  must 
have  been  proper  "  while  it  lasted.  The  second  wife  is  denied  the  divorce, 
and  naturally  shrinks  from  sacrificing  her  pecuniary  interests  and  social 
position  by  asking  for  a  dissolution  of  a  perfectly  lawful  and  reputable 
marriage.  Neither  of  the  other  two  may  ask  it. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  97 

dear  Mabelle,  before  you  proceed  to  extreme  measures, 
I  trust  that  you  will  carefully  consider  the  feelings  of 
my  sister." 

"  You  may  plead  for  yourself,  William,"  Gypsy  re- 
plies, thoroughly  angry.  "  You  will  need  all  your 
words,  let  me  tell  you,  without  wasting  any  for  me.  I 
am  not  blind,  nor  a  fool.  For  six  months  past  you  have 
been  head  over  heels  in  love  with  Mabelle  ;  and  no  over- 
grown schoolboy  ever  made  such  a  ninny  of  himself  as 
you  have,  trying  to  hide  it.  Every  book  Mabelle  said 
she  liked  you  have  sneaked  out  of  the  library  and 
carried  off  to  read.  You  spent  the  whole  evening  be- 
fore you  went  away  pretending  to  read  a  novel,  and 
never  turned  a  page,  just  watching  her ;  and  you  carried 
off  the  book  she  was  reading;  when  I  know  you  hate 
poetry.  She  will  be  a  fool. if  she  don't  get  her  freedom 
and  marry  Dick  Jones,  or  some  one  near  her  own  age. 
You  will  be  worse  off  than  I  if  she  does,  and  you  know 
it." 

Smith  had  had  a  fairly  wide  experience  with  political 
conventions,  but  this  was  the  worst  hornet's  nest  he  had 
ever  stirred  up.  He  watches  his  wife's  face  with  keen 
anxiety,  but  it  does  not  change,  and  a  faint  smile  comes 
to  his  lips. 

"  Thank  you,  Mary  Ann,  for  your  candor.  It  is  a 
virtue  -  sometimes.  When  it  is  not,  it  is  a  nuisance." 

He  might  have  said  more  if  the  return  of  the  waitress 
to  the  room  had  not  put  a  sudden  end  to  confidential 
conversation. 

"  Gypsy,  I  promised  yesterday  to  make  you  a  present 
of  that  garnet  set  you  admired  so  much.  I  was  just 
thinking  that  it  will  match  perfectly  the  dress  Mrs.  Tabor 
is  to  send  home  this  afternoon,  and  the  two  should  go 

7 


98  .  IT  IS  THE  LA  IF. 

together.  Billy  and  I  are  going  out  to  call  on  Mrs.  Lyons, 
and  if  you  will  not  mind  going  down  for  it  I  would  like 
to  have  you  wear  both  at  dinner  to-night,  for  Billy  to 
see  them." 

"Mabelle,  you  are  an  angel !  " 

Gypsy  has  one  weak  point — jewels  and  dress. 

"  I  am  an  artist,  dear ;  and  the  dress  needs  just  that 
touch  to  make  it  perfect.  Something  has  always  been 
lacking,  and  what  it  was  came  by  inspiration.  You 
cannot  imagine,  Billy,  the  thought  I  have  put  upon  it.  I 
made  six  sketches  in  color  before  I  got  the  idea  to  suit 
me.  I  spent  two  days  hunting  the  material  in  the  exact 
shade,  and  I  made  over  a  dozen  drawings  to  scale  before 
I  trusted  Mrs.  Tabor  with  the  stuff.  If  it  is  not  a  suc- 
cess I  shall  be  grievously  disappointed.  You  must  ad- 
mire it  anyway." 

"  As  it  will  not  be  on  a  spike  or  a  beanpole,  I  will 
have  no  difficulty  in  doing  so.  You  hold  Heine's  threat 
over  me,  I  suppose  : 

'  But  if  you  fail  ray  dress  to  praise, 
I'll  be  divorced  on  the  morrow.'  " 

Certainly  her  husband  is  developing  an  entirely  new 
phase  of  character.  She  blushes  and  smiles,  remember- 
ing her  words. 

"  That  would  merely  exchange  an  indulgent  husband 
for  a  crabbed  uncle  and  guardian.  You  are  easier  to 
manage  as  you  are.  I  shall  punish  you  in  some  worse 
way." 

"What  way?     How?'' 

"  I  will  tell  you  in  advance.  Enlarge  every  button- 
hole in  your  shirts  so  that  the  studs  will  come  out  by 
the.  time  you  get  down-town.  Your  collar  will  saw  your 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  99 

neck  all  day,  for  no  man  ever  had  sense  enough  to  buy 
a  new  shirt.  He  looks  for  what  are  not  made — larger 
collar  buttons." 

"  And  could  you  do  anything  so  diabolical  as  that  ? 
It  is  the  thought  of  a  fiend — a  punishment  for  a  long 
life  of  wickedness — not  for  one  sin  of  omission." 

"  Yes,  and  worse.  But  go,  change  your  shirt  arid  put 
on  another  coat  if  we  are  to  call  on  Mrs.  Lyons.  Come 
up  to  my  room,  Gypsy." 

Everything  is  satisfactorily  arranged  with  Mrs.  Lyons 
in  a  very  few  minutes,  including  possession  the  next 
day.  When  they  leave,  Mabelle  turns  to  him  : 

"  It  is  only  three  o'clock.  Let  us  call  on  Jane.  She 
will  want  to  buy  an  outfit,  and  she  won't  know  where  to 
go.  Did  you  leave  her  enough  money  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought — I  didn't  leave  her  any  ;  and  I 
haven't  over  fifty  or  sixty  dollars  with  me." 

"  So  very  like  a  man,"  she  said  ;  "  I  thought  you  might 
be  temporarily  embarrassed ;  so  I  put  up  $300  in  one 
roll  and  $150  in  another.  Give  one  to  Jane  and  the 
other  to  Fanny.  They  will  need  as  much  more  to-mor- 
row. They  must  not  disgrace  you.  We  can  have  dresses 
sent  to  the  hotel  this  afternoon  for  them  to  wear  at  the 
dinner-table  to-night." 

When  Mrs  Smith-Greene  enters  the  long,  dark  parlor 
of  the  Grand  Union  to  receive  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith,  it  is 
with  a  rapidly  beating  heart.  Ordinarily  she  is  very 
phlegmatic.  It  takes  a  good  deal  to  move  her.  But  now 
she  is  ill  at  ease  and  lacking  in  confidence.  She  expects 
a  scene  with  a  woman  like  herself — and  more,  a  woman 
of  the  world,  whom  she  fears  because  she  is  an  unknown 
creature. 

A  slender,   graceful    girl    comes  forward  with  out- 


100  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

stretched  hand  and  sweet  half-hesitating  manner  that 
is  irresistibly  winning.  The  voice  is  sympathetic  and 
sincere. 

"  How  tired  you  must  be  this  warm  day,  cooped  up 
here  !  Will  not  you  and  your  sister  come  shopping  with 
me  ?  You  came  away  so  hastily  that  you  must  have 
forgotten  lots  of  things.  I  know  the  best  places  and  just 
where  to  get  whatever  you  want.  It  is  warm  out,  but  it 
will  rest  you  if  you  will  come." 

"  It  is  aVf ill  warm  here,  and  I  am  dying  for  a  breath 
of  air.  Are  you "  She  hesitates. 

"  Yes,  I  am  Mrs.  Smith  II.  Doesn't  it  sound  odd  ? 
One  might  as  well  be  in  Utah.  And  this  is  Fanny  ?" 

She  turns  to  Mrs.  Robinson,  who  has  shaken  hands 
with  Smith.  "  You  and  I  must  be  the  best  of  friends. 
Frank  Brooks  told  me  last  summer  of  his  first  and  only 
flirtation — but  he  did  riot  tell  me  that  Billy  was  with 
him."  The  latter  sentence  is  to  Jane.  It  is  not  the  words 
but  the  manner  that  puts  both  the  women  at  their  ease. 
Mrs.  Smith-Greene's  apprehensions  vanish. 

She  has  nothing  to  fear  from  this  slip  of  a  girl.  She 
can  put  her  in  her  proper  place,  she  thinks,  at  any 
time.  There  she  blundered. 

"  That  was  not  right.  He  should  have  warned  you. 
I  am  very  sorry  that  he  did  not." 

"You  forget,  dear,  that  friends  seldom  tell  wives  of 
their  husbands'  early  love  affairs  ;  and  Billy  has  had  so 
many  he  has  told  me  of  himself  that  one  more  or  less 
that  he  may  have  forgotten  could  not  matter." 

The  sweet  half-laugh  robbed  the  words  of  any 
particular  sting,  but  Jane  is  quick  to  see  and  to  resent 
that  it  is  no  unformed  girl  who  is  talking  to  her. 

"Put  on  your  bonnet,  Jane,"  Smith  says,  "and  let 
us  go.  I  know  to  my  sorrow  what  shopping  means." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  101 

The  elevated  and  an  Eighteenth  street  car  carry 
them  to  Arnold's.  Fanny  has  taken  instantly  to  Mabelle, 
and  the  two  keep  together,  leaving  Jane  to  Smith, 
that  he  may  explain  to  her  about  the  flat. 

The  question  is  dress  and  the  two  women  discuss  it, 
Fanny  frankly  telling  what  they  have. 

"  You  will  only  need  two  dresses  to-day,  one  for 
dinner  and  one  for  the  street.  Others  you  can  get  at 
any  time." 

"  Yours  is  a  street  dress,"  Fanny  says,  a  little  wist- 
fully. "  Could  one  like  that  be  bought  ready-made  ?  " 

"  Why  ?  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  lovely.     It  makes  you  look  like  a  picture." 

Mabelle  laughs.  "  I  design  all  my  own  dresses,  and 
I  am  proud  of  some  of  them.  This  only  cost  $45  for 
labor  and  material.  But  it  cost  many  hours  of  hard 
work  with  pencil  and  brush  before  it  was  completed." 

She  might  truthfully  have  added  that  hundreds  of 
women  would  gladly  have  paid  her  $100  for  similar 
"  work"  on  one  for  themselves. 

"  Now  I  know  why  it  looks  so  lovely.  It  was  made 
for  you  alone.  It  would  lose  its  charm  on  any  one 
else." 

"That  seems  to  me  the  secret  of  a  perfect  dress.  It 
must  be  a  part  of  the  individuality  of  the  wearer — just 
the  same  as  her  hair ;  it  must  suggest  the  face,  even,  if 
the  latter  should  be  averted.  Such  dresses  can  never 
be  bought.  You  will  see  some  to-day  worth  $300  or 
more ;  but  not  one  in  which  I  would  look  so  well  as  in 
this." 

"  But  would  you  not  like  to  have  a  very  costly  dress  ? 
I  should,  I  think,  even  if  I  did  not  look  so  well  in  it  as 
in  a  cheaper." 


102  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

This  is  truth.  Mabelle  likes  her  for  it,  and  nods 
her  approbation  —  not  of  the  sentiment,  but  of  the 
honesty  it  shows. 

"  Wait  till  you  see  the  walking  dress  I  have  been 
planning  for  you  ever  since  we  left  Thirty-Fourth 
Street  station.  It's  to  be  in  two  shades  ;  the  body  the 
the  color  of  your  eyes,  the  trimming  that  of  your  hair. 
It  is  to  be — No,  wait  till  you  see  it !  Then  tell  me  you 
prefer  one  that  costs  more,  if  you  can." 

"  Will  you  design  one  for  me  alone  ?  One  that  will 
be  all  mine  ?  " 

Mabelle  understands  the  full  significance  of  the 
simple  words — the  ungratified  longing  of  a  life  that  they 
reveal. 

"  Not  one,  but  many,  I  hope,  Fanny,  if  you  are  satis- 
fied with  your  dressmaker.  Let  us  first  see  what  I  can 
do.  You  have  a  perfect  form,  and  that  ought  to  inspire 
me.  Few  women  have,  you  know  ;  and  the  chief 
problem  in  designing  is  to  remedy  the  defects  by  sug- 
gesting what  is  not." 

"  Jane  is  expert  with  her  needle,  and  a  fairly  good 
dressmaker.  She  has  always  made  my  dresses  ;  but  of 
course  they  were  from  fashion  plates." 

"  You  and  your  sister  have  always  lived  together, 
have  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  the  exception  of  the  year  when  I  first 
took  charge  of  the  Tipton  school.  I  was  left  all  alone 
when  she  went  to  Indiana." 

"  How  old  were  you  then  ?  " 

"  Seventeen.  Mother  and  father  died  within  a  few 
months  of  one  another — father  in  September  and  mother 
in  November,  1878.  I  got  the  school  the  next  March. 
Aunt  Jane  was  living  in  Sabine,  Indiana,  and  she  sent 


iriS  THE  LAW.  103 

for  Jane.  She  went  there  in  February  and  stayed  till 
December,  nursing  aunt.  She  was  what  is  called 
4  very  near,'  and  Jane  quarrelled  with  her  and  came 
back  to  Tipton.  I  was  very  glad  to  get  her  back,  and 
since  then  we  have  always  lived  together  or  within  a 
stone's-throw.  We  quarrel  sometimes,  but  it's  only  for 
an  hour.  We  have  both  bad  tempers,  but  we  love  one 
another." 

Mabelle  has  hardly  been  listening  to  the  last  sentence. 
There  is  a  strange  light  in  her  eye,  and  an  odd  little 
smile  on  her  lips  as  ske  looks  at  Smith  and  Jane.  Her 
lips  compress,  she  straightens  up,  and  the  keen  observer 
would  have  known  that  she  had  formed  a  sudden  reso- 
lution which  was  of  more  than  ordinary  importance. 
It  was  several  minutes  before  she  was  herself  again  and 
once  more  talking  freely. 

In  the  bobtail  Smith  makes  an  opportunity  to  say : 
"Jane  wants  a  walking  dress  as  nearly  like  yours  as 
possible.  Can  she  get  one  under  two  hundred  ? '" 

The  slight  gesture  of  dissent  he  understands.  It  is 
not  a  question  of  price,  but  of  fitness.  Her  dress  sug- 
gests shape  ;  Jane's  should  hide  it. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  he  asks,  in  an  undertone. 

*'  Tell  her,  when  she  is  selecting  one,  that  mine  cost 
only  -$45,  and  advise  her  to  buy  one  that  costs  $75,"  she 
replies  sagely. 

He  does,  and  smiles  to  himself  at  the  effect 

When,  at  8  p.  m.,  the  two  women  go  to  the  dining- 
room  arrayed  in  their  new  duds,*  Jane  studies  her  sister 
carefully. 

*  Scotch,  "  duddies;"  English,  "dudes;"  American,  "duds." 

"  She  coost  her  duddies  to  the  wark, 
And  linket  at  it  in  her  sark." 

Burn*. 


104  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  I  don't  understand  it,  Fan.  My  dress  cost  three 
times  what  yours  did,  and  doesn't  look  half  so  well.  I 
believe  that  forewoman  swindled  me,  and  I'll  let  her 
know  it." 

"  Mabelle  chose  mine." 

Fanny  understands  that  her  sister's  dress  is  too  heavily 
ornamented,  for  she  has  learned  her  first  lesson  of  art 
in  dress  from  Mabelle's  bright  comments  on  those  they 
have  seen. 

"  Yes.  They  knew  her  and  didn't  dare  cheat  her.  I 
was  a  stranger  and  they  took  me  in."  Evidently  she  had 
not  enjoyed  her  shopping. 

Fanny  had.  It  had  been  the  pleasantest  two  hours 
she  could  remember.  She  is  wiser  than  her  sister,  and 
is  silent. 

Later  in  the  evening  Smith,  Mabelle,  and  Gypsy  are 
sitting  in  the  Casino  summer  garden,  listening  to  the 
concert. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  them  ?  "  he  asks. 

It  is  the  first  allusion  he  has  made  to  the  afternoon's 
experience.  Gypsy  is  talking  to  an  acquaintance, 
absorbed  in  a  story. 

"  I  shall  like  Fanny.     She  is  as  honest  as  the  sun." 

"  And  Jane  ?  " 

"  She  is  fully  twenty  pounds  too  heavy.  She  should 
lace  and  train  down." 

"  Her  dresses  were  wonderful ;  her  bonnets  marvellous.  Few  women 
could  boast  such  dudes." 

Thackeray. 

"  Why  should  you  say  that,  Samanthy  ?  My  duds  are  as  good  as 
hers,  if  I  haven't  had  a  new  stitch  to  my  back  in  over  two  years." 

Cobb. 

"DUDE;  the  personification  of  clothing— clothes  and  nothing  else." 

The  Dictionary  (next  edition). 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  105 

"  Bother  her  flesh  !  You  know  that's  not  what  I 
mean." 

"  She  is  a  very  fine-looking  woman.  I  think  you 
showed  good  taste." 

He  is  too  wise  to  press  her  further,  but  he  is  discon- 
tented. 

"  T\vo  wives  are  one  too  many,"  he  says,  after  a  while. 

Mabelle  laughs  softly.  She  knows  that  the  remark 
has  no  reference  to  her. 

"  For  either  he  will  hate  the  one  and  love  the  other," 
she  says  it  half  to  herself.  "  It  is  the  natural  timidity 
at  a  new  and  strange  thing,  Billy.  You  will  get  ac- 
customed to  it  in  time.  Think  how  many  of  your 
friends  have  two  or  more  wives.  Besides,  it  is  better 
than — the  other." 

"  That  reproach  has  not  been  needed  since  you  left 
school  two  years  ago ;  but  it  is  just,  I  suppose,"  lie  re- 
plies absently.  There  is  not  the  faintest  attempt  at  ex- 
cuse or  apology. 

She  looks  at  him  in  astonishment  and  colors.  This 
then  was  the  reason  for  the  change  in  conduct  to  which 
he  had  alluded  in  their  morning  conversation.  There 
was  nothing  to  tell  her.  The  compliment  is  the  greatest 
she  had  ever  received,  fourfold  greater  for  its  utter  un- 
consciousness, and  she  asks  involuntarily,  "  Is  that 
true?" 

"  The  objective  order  of  the  phenomena  is  in  accord- 
ance with  the  subjective  order  of  thought,  if  that's  what 
you  mean.  I  suppose  that  it  has  been  from  lack  of  op- 
portunity or  strong  enough  temptation.  I  don't  know 
any  other  reason.  The  fact  just  occurred  to  me,  so  it's 
not  because  I  am  become  pious." 

If  he  doesn't  know  tin;  reason,  she  does.     She  is  just 


106  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

beginning  to  learn  a  new  phase  of  her  husband's  charac- 
ter. It  makes  her  proud  and  humble. 

"  Don't  be  cynical.  If  I  lay  aside  my  mask,  you 
must  do  the  same." 

"  Do  you  believe  there  is  in  me  one  good  thing?  " 

"  Many.  But  in  this  respect  I  did  not  until  this 
morning.  Now  my  eyes  are  opening.  Don't  be 
ashamed,  Billy,  of  letting  me  see  something  of  the 
other  side.  Give  me  pleasure  when  you  can." 

He  blushes  like  a  school-boy,  and  is  about  to  reply 
without  thought  of  what  he  is  saying,  when  Gypsy 
joins  them,  loaded  to  the  teeth. 

"  Mabelle,  Nellie  Brown  was  married  last  week  to 
that  man  she  has  been  corresponding  with,  and  when 
her  father  found  it  out  he  had  him  arrested  and  he  is  in 
prison  now.  Mamie  says  that  Nellie  is  to  be  sent  to  the 
convent,  and  that  her  uncle  says  he  will  have  her  hus- 
band sent  to  prison  for  five  years,  for  marrying  her." 

Gypsy  is  not  strong  with  her  pronouns — but  she  is 
understood. 

"  Why,  how  can  that  be  ?  Nellie  is  eighteen  or  nine- 
teen." 

"  No,  only  sixteen.  Her  birthday  is  on  the  Fourth. 
Everyone  thought  she  was  eighteen." 

"  Do  you  know  the  date  they  were  married?  "  Smith 
asks. 

"  Yes,  it  was  the  third. 

"  Then  it  is  all  right.  Her  father  will  get  into  trouble 
and  have  to  pay  enough  damages  to  support  them  for 
two  or  three  years.  False  arrest  is  no  joke,  and  he  pro- 
bably swore  she  was  under  sixteen — and  that  is  per- 
jury." 

"  Why,  how  is  that  ?  Sixteen  is  the  age  up  to  which  a 


IT  IS  THE  LA  jr.  107 

parent  or  guardian  has  property  rights  in  a  daughter  or 
ward,  and  she  was  not  sixteen  by  a  day," 

"•  That's  the  law,  Mabelle,  but  it  is  also  the  law  that 
a  man  or  woman  is  of  age  the  day  before  the  birthday. 
She  was  full  sixteen  years  old  the  last  second  of  the  last 
day  of  her  sixteenth  year  which  ends  at  midnight.  Now 
the  law  takes  no  account  of  fractions  of  a  day,  so  that  she 
was  sixteen  at  any  hour  on  the  3d,  the  last  legal  day  of 
her  sixteenth  year,  and  it  was  not  grand  larceny  to  steal 
her  on  and  after  that  date.  It  would  have  been  if  the 
marriage  had  been  the  day  before.  Her  father's  remedy 
is  a  civil  action  for  damages  for  loss  of  service  for  the 
five  years  between  then  and  the  time  she  comes  of  age. 
She  ceased  to  be  his  private  and  personal  property, 
July  3." 

"  She's  of  age  at  eighteen,"  Gypsy  says. 

"  Who  told  you  so  ?  She's  of  age  at  twenty-one,  and 
not  an  hour  before.  That  superstition  about  a  girl 
being  of  age  at  eighteen  is  one  of  the  most  singular  I 
ever  met.  I  never  could  find  out  its  origin."  The  latter 
remark  is  to  Mabelle. 

"  Then  Mr.  Brown  cannot  have  the  marriage  dis- 
solved?" 

"  No  marriage  can  be  dissolved — annulled  is  the  right 
word,  Sis — where  the  girl  is  over  fourteen,*  and  only 
in  a  very  few  cases  can  the  courts  interfere  where  she  is 
over  twelve.f  The  age  of  legal  marriage  is  twelve  for 
the  girl  and  fourteen  for  the  boy.  But  if  a  girl  under 
sixteen  marries  without  her  parent's  consent,  the  hus- 
band may  be  sent  to  the  state  prison  for  grand  larceny, 


§  1744  Code  of  Civil  Procedure,  since  changed  to  sixteen. 
For  the  three  cases  see  note,  ante. 


108  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

having  stolen  the  parent's  property — the  daughter.* 
After  that  age  he  does  not  own  her,  but  only  has  a  five 
years'  interest  in  her,  the  same  as  a  widow  has  in  her 
husband's  real  estate.  Those  proceedings  do  not  affect 
the  marriage,  which  holds  good  in  all  cases.  The  man 
is  not  punished  for  marrying  the  girl,  but  for  stealing  the 
father's  spoons  or  watch  or  daughter  or  other  property. 
The  governor  usually  pardons  him  after  a  year,  and  then 
the  two  go  to  housekeeping.  Sometimes  he  gets  five 
years."  f 

"  It's  simply  abominable  !  And  I  can't  be  married 
before  I  am  sixteen,  except  with  your  consent,  without 
having  my  husband  sent  to  prison  for  stealing  your 
property  ?  I  am  your  property  until  then,  am  I  ?  I 
have  a  good  mind  to  get  married  before  the  year  is 
out." 

"  Don't,  Gypsy.  You  would  hit  your  head  against  a 
stone-wall.  It  is  the  law." 

*  §  282  Criminal  Code. 

t  But  if  the  girl  is  over  sixteen  the  marriage  cannot  be  voided,  and 
she  must  remain  his  wife.  In  1886,  the  marriage  could  not  be  voided 
if  the  girl  was  14,  but  the  law  has  since  been  changed. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  109 


CHAPTER  VII. 

For  the  good  man  is  not  at  home, 

He  is  gone  a  long  journey  : 

He  hath  taken  a  bag  of  money  with  him. 

Prov.  vii.  19. 

Two  weeks  later  Mrs.  Smith-Greene  and  her  sister 
Fanny  are  sitting  on  the  cool  verandah  of  a  small  cot- 
tage at  Long  Branch.  The  breeze  from  the  ocean  is  a 
delight  to  Fanny,  and  she  leans  back  in  the  rocker, 
watching  the  vessels  passing,  in  delicious  content.  Mrs. 
Smith-Greene  has  laid  down  her  novel.  She  cannot  get 
interested  in  it,  although  the  fault  is  not  in  the  book. 
Suddenly  she  says  : 

"  I  will  not  stand  it.  I  am  an  injured  woman.  I  will 
not  be  bought  off  in  this  way." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  Fanny  says,  bringing  her 
eyes  reluctantly  from  the  blue  waves  and  white  scurry- 
ing clouds  to  rest  on  her  sister's  face.  Its  expression 
does  not  improve  it. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  think  William  is 
treating  me  right  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  of  course  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
he  is  everything  kind  and  gentle  and  good." 

"  Am  I  his  wife,  or  am  1  not  ?  " 

"  You  are  his  wife,  Jane,  or  we  should  not  be  here. 
What  is  the  matter?" 

"  It  is  just  this,  that  I  won't  be  neglected  in  this 
manner." 


110  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  He  has  given  you  the  most  lovely  home  I  ever  saw 
in  my  life,  Jenny  ;  a  little  paradise.  And  he  has  hired 
this  house  for  us  for  the  summer.  I  do  not  under- 
stand— " 

"  Yes,  he  has  put  me,  his  lawful  wife,  on  the  third 
flat  of  an  apartment  house,  while  he  lives  with  that 
woman  in  a  whole  house  by  himself.  He  has  run  me 
down  here  alone,  where  I  know  nobody,  that  he  may  go 
off  with  her  to  Saratoga  or  Newport.  He  allows  me 
$150  per  month  and  spends  ten  times  that  on  himself 
and  her.  I  won't  stand  it.  It  is  disgraceful.  No  man 
has  a  right  to  treat  his  wife  like  that." 

"  But  she  is  his  lawful  wife,  Jenny." 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  talk  that 
way  to  me,  your  sister.  Was  he  not  married  to  me 
before  she  was  married  to.  him  ?  Am  I  not  the  lawful 
wife  ?  This  is  not  Utah.  It  is  nonsense  to  say  a  man 
may  have  two  wives.  He  has  one  wife.  You  can  call 
the  other  what  you  please.  If  she  was  not  a  brazen 
baggage  she  would  never  have  lived  with  him  a  day 
after  he  found  me.  She  would  have  been  glad  to  crawl 
to  some  place  where  no  one  knew  her  and  hide  her 
shame  from  the  world.  Instead  of  doing  that,  as  any 
decent  woman  would,  she  coaxes  him  and  wheedles  him 
into  staying  with  her,  and  as  she  is  his  latest,  and  young 
and  tender,  she  keeps  him,  when  his  place  is  here,  by 
me — here,  by  me,  do  you  understand  ?  He  had  no 
right  to  leave  me  for  an  hour,  and  he  has  never 
spoken  to  me  alone  since  we  arrived  in  New  York." 

Fanny  seldom  contradicts  her  sister.  She  manages 
her  differently.  But  "  brazen  "  and  "  baggage  "  are  too 
much. 

"  Are  you  Robert  Greene's  wife   or   only   his   kept- 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  HI 

woman?  You  want  two  lawful  husbands  and  deny 
Mabelle  one." 

Jane  stands  up  and  comes  over  to  her  sister,  her  face 
flushing  and  paling  with  anger. 

"  I  would  hit  you  if  I  had  anything  handy.  I  will 
smack  your  face  if  ever  you  repeat  such  a  thing.  She 
has  bought  you  for  a  $50  dress.  She  did  it  deliberately. 
O,  she's  artful  and  deep,  if  she  is  a  'sweet-voiced  in- 
nocent thing '  !  She  wheedles  my  husband  away  from 
me  and  buys  my  sister !  I  must  be  turned  out  in  the 
cold,  and  she  won't  be  satisfied  till  I  am." 

Fanny  has  had  so  wide  an  experience  with  her 
sister's  temper  that  she  does  not  get  angry.  She  is 
merely  pained — a  very  little.  When  the  gust  is  over 
she  returns  to  the  raw  spot,  but  deliberately  this  time. 

"  Have  you  two  lawful  husbands  or  one,  Jenny  ?  Let 
me  understand  clearly." 

"  That's  an  entirely  different  matter.  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  case.  I  had  a  perfect  right  to  marry 
him  if  I  chose  ;  but  I  gave  Robert  up  when  Willie 
came,  and  he  should  have  given  her  up." 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  Robert  had  given  you  up  some 
weeks  before." 

Her  sister's  anger  blazes  up  again. 

"  Don't  you  dare  talk  to  me  like  that,  Fanny.  I  did 
not  commit  bigamy,  and  I  am  not  a  fugitive  from  jus- 
tice." 

The  family  temper  is  in  Fanny,  but  it  is  under  better 
control.  She  is  finer  grained  and  better  bred.  She  has 
had  more  schooling  and  has  improved  her  opportunities 
better.  But  she  turns  to  her  sister  now  with  her  bright 
brown  eyes  gleaming  and  her  lips  tightly  compressed. 

"If  I  married  twice,  it  was  the  same  man,"  she  said 


112  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

slowly.  "  One  man  did  not  live  with  me  one  day,  and 
another  man  the  next.  It  seems  to  me  you  have  no  sense 
of  shame.  I  will  let  my  neck  get  cold  from  one  man's 
arm  before  it  is  warmed  by  another.  Be  quiet,  Jane ! 
I  shall  not  quarrel  with  you.  If  you  wish  me  to  leave 
you,  I  will  go  this  afternoon.  But  if  you  wish  me  to 
stay,  you  must  control  your  tongue.  I  have  put  up  with 
a  great  deal  from  you,  and  you  only  get  worse.  I  will 
put  up  with  no  more.  You  may  choose  between  your 
temper  and  your  sister." 

Mrs.  Smith-Green's  brooding  and  passion  have  brought 
her  to  the  verge  of  tears. 

"  If  you  cared  for  me,  Fanny,  you  would  sympathize 
with  me  ;  but  you  only  want  an  excuse  to  go  and  live 
with  her.  She  would  be  very  glad  to  get  you." 

Fanny  smiles.  "  Don't  be  a  fool,  Jenny.  What's  the 
matter  with  you  any  way  ?  " 

"  I  want  my  rights  as  a  wife.  I  want  him  to  live  with 
me.  I  want  him  to  put  her  away.  What  right  had  she 
to  sit  at  the  head  of  his  table  and  entertain  me  ?  It  was 
my  place,  not  hers.  He  may  give  her  the  flat,  but  he 
shall  give  me  the  house,  and  he  shall  live  with  me,  not 
her.  If  he  don't,  I  will  make  it  hot  for  him."  She  is 
in  tears  now. 

"  Stop  crying  and  listen  to  me.  Don't  you  know  that 
house  belongs  to  her  ?  Don't  you  know  the  house  we 
live  in  belongs  to  her  ?  Don't  you  know  that  your  rent — 
which  would  be  $900  a  year — is  given  you  by  her,  not 
him  ?  Don't  you  know  that  she  is  his  niece,  and  he  is 
her  guardian  and  the  manager  of  her  property  ?  Don't 
you  know  he  is  probably  spending  all  the  money  he  has 
of  his  own  on  you — and  part  of  hers  perhaps  ?  Don't 
you—" 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  113 

"  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it.  She  has  been  filling 
you  with  lies." 

"  You  are  very  rude,  Jane.  She  never  said  a  word  to 
me.  Gypsy  was  showing  me  her  elder  sister's  picture, 
and  asked  me  if  I  thought  Mabelle  looked  like  her 
mother ;  and  when  I  did  not  understand  how  her  and 
Willie's  sister  could  be  Mabelle's  mother,  she  explained 
to  me.  They  have  been  married  six  years — I  saw  the 
record.  Mabelle's  a  very  rich  woman,  but  Willie  is  not 
rich.  I  heard  the  elevator  boy  tell  a  gentleman  that 
the  flats  on  our  floor  were  $900  a  year — they  had  been 
§1,000.  If  you  should  live  with  him,  Mabelle  would 
have  to  live  with  you,  for  he  is  her  guardian  and  the 
property  is  hers." 

"  No,  she  wouldn't.  I  would  send  her  to  boarding- 
school  till  she  was  twenty-one.  What  you  say  makes  it 
only  worse.  There's  no  excuse  for  him.  He  has  entire 
control  of  the  property,  if  he  is  her  guardian,  and  can 
do  just  what  he  likes  with  it.  He  can  give  me  all  he 
wishes.  The  point  is,  he  don't  want  to.  But  I  will 
make  him — or  he  will  be  sorry." 

"  Don't  do  anything  rash,  Jane.  You  are  very  unjust 
and  very  unfair.  He  is  not  a  man  to  be  threatened,  and 
if  you  act  while  you  are  angry  you  will  certainly  regret 
it." 

"  I  will  take  care  of  my  own  business." 

"  Put  on  your  bonnet  and  come  down  to  the  beach. 
Try  and  distract  your  attention." 

"  I  feel  better  already.     I  am  glad  I  have  had  it  out." 

"  You  were  so  bad,  that  is  not  saying  much.  I  hope 
the  improvement  will  continue  for  some  time." 

Returning,  they  walk  along  behind  a  very  loving  pair 
for  whom  the  narrow  plank  is  all  too  wide.  Something 


114  IT JS  THE  LAW. 

about  the  man's  back  attracts  Jane's  attention — and 
Fanny's  also.  It  seems  familiar  to  her.  Looking  at 
Jane's  face  she  sees  it  set  and  white  with  anger. 

The  two  gates  are  close  together — gates  are  set  in 
pairs  along  this  avenue — and  Jane  stands  rigid  by  hers 
without  attempting  to  open  it. 

The  woman  in  front  of  them  passes  through,  the  man 
remains  outside.  There  is  a  murmur  of  voices,  then  a 
man  says  distinctly,  "  I'll  be  back  in  a  few  minutes.  I 
want  to  get  a  few  cigars." 

There  is  no  mistake  about  it.  He  kisses  her,  there  in 
the  public  street,  and  she  scuttles  to  the  piazza  and 
blows  him  a  kiss  in  return. 

He  turns  back,  takes  two  steps  with  his  eyes  on  the 
boards,  and  halts  suddenly,  looking  up. 

Jane  stands  directly  in  front  of  him  and  puts  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"  Robert  Greene,  what  are  you  doing  here  with  that 
woman  ?  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  My  Gosh !  Jane !  "  He  is  so  near  to  fainting  that 
Fanny  pities  him. 

"  I'll  '  my  gosh  '  you  if  you  don't  tell  me.  Who  is  she, 
I  say?" 

"  She's  only — a  little  girl — I  picked  up  on  the  beach. 
I'll  come  back  in  a  minute.  Say,  Jane,  let  me  go  now. 
I  swear  I  will — " 

He  recovers  his  breath,  twists  free,  and  runs  like  a 
river  in  Thrace,  leaving  Jane  to  admire  his  glancing 
soles.  She  controls  the  impulse  to  chase  him.  He 
is  too  fleet-footed  to  be  caught  by  her.  She  is  no  Har- 
palyce. 

"  The  wretch  !  The  villain  !  "  she  exclaims  passion- 
ately. "  Wait  till  you  come  back,  and  you  will  wish 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  115 

you  had  never  been  born — you  and  your  trollops  you 
pick  up  on  the  beach." 

This  latter  remark  is  directed  to  the  next  house,  but 
the  "trollop"  does  not  hear  it,  having  gone  in  and 
missed  the  fun.  But  a  gentleman,  swinging  in  a  ham- 
mock strung  from  the  gate-post  to  the  division  fence, 
has  seen  the  whole  comedy  from  start  to  finish,  and  he 
laughs  till  his  sides  ache. 

"  Say  it  again,  Jane,  say  it  again  !  "  he  calls  out.  And 
a  roar  of  laughter  follows,  that  drives  the  two  women 
into  their  house. 

"  O,  Jane,  how  could  you  make  such  a  scene  ?  "  Fan- 
ny is  mortified  and  distressed  beyond  measure. 

"Why  shouldn't  I?"  Ought  I  to  let  him  desert  me, 
shame  me,  disgrace  me  in  the  way  he  has,  and  not  make 
a  scene?  I'll  tear  that  woman's  eyes  out  if  I  meet  her. 
The  wretch ! " 

"  But  Jane—" 

Don't  talk  to  me  !  I  won't  stand  it.  To  think  how 
I  have  worked  for  that  man  for  two  years  past !  worked 
for  him,  slaved  for  him  ;  and  starved  for  him,  and  this  is 
my  return  !  This  is  all  the  thanks  I  get !  He  takes  the 
e$60  I  have  saved,  fifty  cents  at  a  time — the  money  I  made 
stitching  on  overalls — and  steals  $600  more  to  come  here 
for  a  grand  spree  with  vile  women  on  my  hard-earned 
money.  You  wait  till  I  get  my  hands  on  him  once  more, 
lie  won't  get  away  from  me  again." 

"  Are  you  crazy,  Jane  ?  " 

-Crazy?  It  is  you  that  are  crazy.  Isn't  he  my  hus- 
band,  Robert  Greene,  whom  I  married  two  years  ago? 
Didn't  I  see  him  and  hear  him  kiss  that  trollop  ?  Picked 
her  up  on  the  beach,  did  he  ?  Wait  till  I  pick  him  up  on 
tin-  beach!  " 


116  JT  IS  THE  LAW. 

Fanny  laughs  nervously.  She  is  amused  at  her  sister, 
but  she  is  shocked  also. 

"  But  you  seem  to  forget  all  about  Willie.     If  you — " 

"  That  has  nothing  to  do  with  this  case.  The  judge 
explained  it  all  to  me.  What  passes  between  Willie 
and  me  is  none  of  Robert's  business.  What  passes 
between  Robert  and  me  is  none  of  Willie's  business. 
I  am  Willie's  lawful  wife,  and  Robert  is  my  lawful 
husband.  He  remains  my  lawful  husband  until  death, 
or  until  he  has  the  marriage  annulled.  Neither  Willie 
nor  I  can  ask  to  have  my  second  marriage  annulled.  It 
must  stand  as  long  as  Robert  likes,  and  he  alone  has  a 
right  to  have  it  set  aside.  But  until  he  does  he  shall 
not  pick  up  vile  women  on  the  beach,  and  I  will  have 
a  divorce  from  him  for  this  day's  work.  Don't  answer 
me,  Fanny;  it  is  the  law."* 

"  That  is  all  rubbish,  Jane.  It  may  be  the  law,  but 
you  cannot  live  with  two  husbandsf  even  if  you  want 
to." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  I  have  even  one,"  the 
other  returns  wrathfully.  "  My  lawful  marriages  with 
two  men  and  your  bigamy  with  one  seem  to  have  had 
the  same  result,  that  neither  of  us  has  any." 

Robert's  speed  does  not  abate  until  the  hotel  is  reached 
and  he  sinks  panting  into  a  chair  in  the  bar-room. 

"  What  an  escape  !"  he  murmurs.  "  What  could  have 
brought  Jane  here  ?  How  quickly  she  has  tracked 
me  !  " 

*  And  it  is.     She  is  perfectly  right. 

t  And  in  that  she  was  wrong.  There  is  nothing  in  the  law  to  prevent 
a  wife,  under  such  circumstances,  living  with  both  husbands.  Both 
must  contribute  to  her  support  and  both  are  entitled  to  her  society. 
Nor  will  the  law  admit  that  there  is  any  immorality  or  wrong-doing, 
or  release  either  husband.  Th  >y  must  divide  her  or  go  without  a  wife. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  117 

When  his  brain  clears  and  he  cools  off,  he  drinks  two 
holy-crosses  sour — slowly,  one  after  another. 

There's  naught,  no  doubt  so  much  that  the  spirit  calms 
as  rum  and  true  religion,  but  since  the  visible  stock  of 
the  world's  supply  of  the  latter  has  run  down  so  low 
that  very  few  ever  venture  to  buy  a  future  in  it,  the 
former  is  nearly  always  used  to  steady  the  nerves  after 
a  shock.  Blame  him  not !  Where  could  he  find,  at 
Long  Branch,  anything  else  to  bring  ease  to  his  mind 
or  strength  to  his  legs  ?  He  scorned,  ay  !  he  loathed 
the  "  red,  red  rum."  But  Santa  Cruz  is  white,  and 
then,  just  think  of  the  name  !  It  was  the  nearest  thing 
he  could  get  to  the  other.  He  always  conformed  to  the 
prejudices  of  the  world — when  it  paid.  He  was  piously 
inclined — in  Tipton.  If  he  had  not  been  he  would  never 
have  been  able  to  steal  $600. 

When  he  goes  to  the  reading-room  he  sits  down  at  a 
table,  and  with  some  difficulty  composes  the  following 
note: 

"  MY  ADORED  ANGEL  : — You  have  been  brave  and  true,but  I  must  put 
your  courage  and  devotion  to  one  more  test  which  I  know  you  will 
gladly  accept  for  my  sweet  sake.  I  am  again  in  trouble,  in  serious 
trouble,  which  you  alone  can  keep  me  from.  I  will  explain  all  to  you 
when  we  meet,  but  now  you  must  do  exactly  what  I  say,  or  we  may 
never  meet  again.  If  you  love  me,  my  angel,  do  what  I  say.  Pack 
your  trunks  immediately.  Don't  wait  a  miuute.  I  will  send  a  carnage 
for  you  at  eight  o'clock.  Pay  the  landlady  the  board  for  a  week,  and 
tell  her  that  your  mother  has  taken  rooms  at  the  West  End  for  us,  and 
we  must  go  there.  Tell  her  that  you  will  call  on  her  with  your  mother 
to-morrow  to  thank  her.  The  driver  will  bring  you  to  me.  Don't 
delay  him,  and  don't  let  any  one  know  anything  has  happened  to  me. 
Come  to  me,  darling,  come  to  your  own. 

"BABY  BOB." 

At  ten  o'clock  she  is  sitting  on  his  lap  in  a  room  of  the 
Metropolitan  Hotel,  New  York.  Her  "  Baby  Bob  "  has 


118  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

explained  the  reason  for  their  sudden  flight  from  the 
Branch — not  entirely  to  her  satisfaction,  but  she  will  not 
let  him  know  that. 

"And  could  they  arrest  you  in  New  Jersey,  Bob 
dearest,  when  they  cannot  in  New  York  ?  You  haven't 
done  anything  wrong.  Is  it  the  law  ?  " 

"My  angel,  they  don't  ask  any  such  questions  in  New 
Jersey.  It's  not  like  New  York.  Here  they  hunt  up 
the  law,  and  if  they  can't  find  one  they  don't  arrest  you, 
but  there  they  just  run  a  man  in  and  send  him  to  jail.  It's 
only  after  he  has  served  his  term  of  two  or  three  years 
behind  the  bars  that  they  even  let  him  ask  if  it  is  the  law> 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  119 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Every  wise  woman  buildeth  her  house. 

Prov.  xiv,  I. 

WHEN  Smith  said  that  Greene  was  the  fly  in  his  pot 
of  ointment,  he  merely  gave  expression  to  a  thought 
that  had  been  formulating  in  his  mind  from  the  time 
when  in  the  judge's  private  room  he  had  asked  Jane 
where  Greene  was.  It  had  soured  all  his  pleasure  in 
finding  his  boyhood's  love.  After  the  first  few  caresses, 
an  invisible  person  had  seemed  ever-present — a  mocking, 
sneering  demon.  He  could  not  bring  himself  to  believe 
that  they  were  alone,  even  during  the  hour  that  Fanny 
left  them  to  themselves ;  and  the  words  that  would  have 
flowed  readily  under  any  other  circumstances,  could  not 
be  uttered.  If  he  had  never  married  Jane  it  would 
have  been  a  very  different  matter.  Then  the  thought 
of  her  husband  would  have  been  a  pleasure,  perhaps  a 
delight.  Now,  it  was  exactly  what  he  had  said — a  fly 
in  the  pot. 

That  the  final  result  would  have  been  the  same  had 
Jane  never  remarried,  is  certain.  It  would  merely  have 
taken  longer  for  its  development.  There  would  have 
been  many  complications  which  Greene's  existence  pre- 
vented ;  but  nothing  could  have  kept  back  the  discovery 
that  the  Jane  he  loved  and  married  was  not  the  Jane  he 
had  found. 

It  was  the  truth,  that  he  had  kept  fresh  and  green  his 
memory  of  the  sweet  and  shy  village  girl  of  sixteen. 


120  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

It  was  the  truth,  that  he  had  never  loved  anyone  as  he 
had  the  timid,  clinging  bride  of  a  few  months.  Perhaps 
he  never  would — or  could.  It  was  the  truth  that  he 
loved  her  still.  But  it  was  his  child-wife  that  he  loved  ; 
not  this  fair  and  fat  woman. 

He  would  have  taken  it  for  granted  at  first  that  she 
whose  character  had  been  formed  in  the  narrow  lines  of 
village  life,  whose  passions  had  been  uncontrolled  by 
the  amenities  among  the  gentle,  whose  nature  had  been 
hardened  and  whose  judgment  had  been  warped  by 
years  of  penury,  was  truly  his  tender,  unformed 
wife  in  another  dress.  He  would  have  sought  for  and 
imagined  resemblances.  He  would  have  shut  his  eyes 
for  a  long  time  to  the  fact  that  he  could  not  find  them. 
But  however  reluctant  he  might  have  been  to  accept  the 
truth,  the  time  would  surely  have  come  when  he  would 
have  been  forced  to  recognize  it. 

Two  wives  are  what  he  had  said — one  too  many. 
Many  men  make  the  same  discovery  concerning  a  single 
wife  ;  but  all  men  who  have  more  than  one  must  make 
it,  sooner  or  later,  whatever  the  circumstances  may  be, 
provided  the  wife  is  an  equal  and  not  a  slave. 

Mabelle's  merciless  probing  brought  the  truth  clearly 
before  him.  He  had  tried  to  put  the  thought  away  ; 
but  the  mere  mention  of  Greene's  name  had  compelled 
him  to  recognize  the  fact  that  he  did  not  care  whether 
Mrs.  Greene  ever  crossed  his  path  again.  He  was 
ashamed  of  the  feeling — and  he  could  not  but  rejoice  in 
it.  It  seemed  like  treachery  to  the  girl-wife  whom  he 
should  never  cease  to  love,  that  he  could  not  accept  her 
in  whatever  guise  she  came ;  and  yet  it  was  pleasant 
to  know  that  this  gross  woman  whom  he  feared  had  no 
influence  over  him. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  121 

His  appeal  to  Mabelle  bad  not  been  in  order  to  sbow 
her  that  he  loved  her  better,  or  that  she  had  misjudged 
him.  No  thought  of  Mabelle  or  of  self-justification 
crossed  his  mind.  It  was  because  a  great  fear  had  come 
to  him,  and  he  wanted  help.  He  clung  to  Mabelle  as  he 
might  have  clung  to  Frank.  Two  years  of  right-living 
under  Mabelle's  influence  had  really  weakened  his  ap- 
petite for  the  pleasures  of  the  stable.  The  path  which  had 
been  followed  for  a  few  months  as  a  matter  of  courtesy 
and  accident,  had  become  really  the  more  attractive. 
Like  a  man,  he  did  not  understand  that  it  was  the  effect 
of  his  wife's  influence,  and  he  honestly  attributed  it  to 
lack  of  temptation.  Here  was  a  temptation  almost  irres- 
istible to  return  to  the  lowest  depth — and  he  looked 
at  it  with  a  shudder.  He  appreciated  how  strong  it  was. 
Jane  was  legally  his  wife.  He  believed  that  she  loved 
him.  She  took  it  for  granted  that  he  loved  her  without 
his  saying  so,  and  he  had  not  the  courage  to  tell  her  the 
truth.  But  lie  could  not  in  his  heart  regard  her  as  his 
wife.  She  was  to  his  mind  but  a  strange  and  unknown 
woman  whom  he  disliked  rather  than  liked,  because  her 
existence  seemed  to  rob  him  of  one  whom  he  did  love. 

Had  she  been  another  man's  wife,  to  whom  he  had 
been  attracted,  he  might  not  have  welcomed  the  tempta- 
tion, but  he  might  riot  have  put  it  away.  It  was  the 
thought  of  Greene  that  made  this  particular  temptation 
repulsive,  and  this  alone  that  kept  him  in  subjection  to 
the  law  of  his  mind. 

He  may  not  have  been  fully  conscious  of  it,  and 
probably  was  not.  The  drowning  man  clutching  at  a 
plank  is  not  fully  conscious  that  he  is  drowning.  His 
action  is  mechanical.  Smith's  was  probably  the  same 
when  he  grasped  Mabelle.  But  he  saw  instantly  that  she 


122  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

was  his  only  means  of  escape  from  a  position  which  grew 
more  and  more  unpleasant  every  time  he  considered  it. 

Rosedale  was  very  inappropriately  named.  There  was 
not  a  rose  any  where  around  it,  and  the  house  itself  was 
on  a  ledge  near  the  top  of  the  north  side  of  Storm  King. 

As  the  school-boy  just  beginning  Greek  derives 
Moses  from  Middle  town,  so  Mabelle  had  instantly  derived 
this  name  when  Smith  had  objected  to  the  village 
calling  it  Rosendale's,  from  the  previous  owner  of  the 
little  hut  which  he  had  taken  for  a  debt  and  transform- 
ed into  a  retreat  from  the  summer  heat  of  the  city. 

He  had  built  a  comfortable  country  house  of  the 
American  pattern.  The  Queen  Anne  and  King  Louis 
houses  in  the  valley  looked  up  at  it  in  contempt,  and 
the  bucolic  minds  gave  it  none  of  the  reverence  wasted 
on  them.  But  it  had  a  dozen  comforts  and  conven- 
iences they  lacked,  for  not  a  dollar  had  been  wasted  on 
show,  and  the  view  was  equalled  by  only  one  other  in 
the  state.  A  covered  piazza,  fifteen  feet  wide  and  two 
stories  high,  on.  "three  sides,  was  used  for  dining  and 
living  rooms  ;  and  here,  above  the  highest  flight  of  the 
mosquito,  and  far  beyond  the  line  of  dew,  the  fiercest 
summer  day  to  those  roasting  and  broiling  in  the  boxes 
of  the  village  below  was  delicious  June  weather. 

"  I  have  invited  Mrs.  Carter  over  for  your  birthday, 
Billy,"  Mabelle  says.  "  Will  you  go  over  in  the  morn- 
ing to  Coldspring,  or  will  you  send  Drivvels  ?  " 

"  Suppose  there  is  no  wind,"  he  replies,  giving  her 
hammock  a  swing.  "  The  Fly  cannot  spread  her  wings 
without  it." 

"  I  will  not  suppose  it.  There  has  been  a  breeze 
ruffling  the  bay  all  day.  We  might  have  had  a  lovely 
sail  to  Newburg  and  back." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  123 

"  Why  didn't  we  go?  "     He  is  amused. 

"  Because  I  am  so  lazy.     You  might  have  gone." 

"  And  left  you  here.  What  fun  is  there  unless  you 
have  somebody  to  admire  your  skill  in  handling  the 
boat  and  to  enjoy  the  drive  through  the  water." 

"  Mrs.  Hart  and  Lilian  would  have  supplied  that. 
And  there's  lots  of  women  at  the  hotels  and  boarding- 
houses,  whom  you  know,  that  are  dying  for  a  sail  on 
the  Fly." 

"  They  are  all  a  pack  of  empty-headed  fools." 

"Since  when,  Billy?  You  must  not  become  misan- 
thropic. There  are  lots  of  them  more  interesting  than 
I,  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"You  know  that's  nonsense.  You  know  there  isn't 
another  woman  in  the  world  that's  fit  to  button 
your  shoes."  He  is  angry  and  earnest. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  Billy  ?  How  foolish  you 
must  be  !  I  wish  some  one  else  thought  so."  She  does 
not ;  but  she  says  it.  Why  women  say  such  things  no 
man  ever  yet  fathomed.  Perhaps  there  is  no  "why." 

"Dick  Jones,  for  instance."  His  wits  have  been 
sharpened. 

"  No,  he  thinks  so  now.  I  wish  lie  didn't."  The 
latter  sentence  is  true  at  one  moment  and  untrue  the 
next.  This  happened  to  be  one  of  the  odd-numbered 
moments. 

"  Has  he  told  you  so  ?  The  voice  is  quizzical,  but 
only  by  an  effort. 

"  Yes."  She  is  miles  away,  and  has  answered  with- 
out thought. 

There  is  a  sense  of  suffocation  in  his  throat.  He  can 
scarcely  breathe,  and  he  knows  that  lie  must  not  try  to 
speak.  The  words  of  her  prophecy  as  to  her  "  fate  " 


124  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

burn  like  caustic.     His  silence  brings  her  back  slowly, 
and  their  eyes  meet. 

"  Don't,  Mabelle,  don't  fall  in  love  with  the  handsome 
face  of  this  modern  Paris,"  he  says  earnestly.  "  If  you 
do,  you  will  break  your  heart.  He  is  everything  that  a 
woman  desires,  but  he  has  no  force  of  character.  He 
can  be  led  by  the  nose  anywhere  and  almost  by  anybody. 
He  takes  the  last  word  and  follows  the  last  face.  He 
has  no  persistence  ;  no  sand.  In  everything  else  there's 
not  a  word  to  be  said  against  him ;  but  to  a  woman  like 
you  such  weakness  would  be  despicable." 

She  smiles  at  him.  "  Will  you  go,  or  will  you  send 
Drivvels  ?  " 

"  I  will  go,  of  course.     You  will  come  with  me?" 

She  hesitates,  and — Dick  Jones  is  lost,  not  she. 

"  Yes.     Shall  we  take  all?  The  Fly  is  large  eiiongh." 

"  No  ;  let  us  go  alone,  If  we  get  to  Coldspring  be- 
fore the  time  we  can  take  a  cab  and  drive  out  to  Brook- 
side.  Otherwise  we  must  wait  at  the  dock." 

She  nods  assent. 

"  Who  else  will  be  here  ?  " 

"  Only  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grey — Nellie  Brown  that  was. 
Gypsy  came  up  with  them  on  the  boat.  They  are  at 
Caldwell's.  Old  Mr.  Brown  has  not  forgiven  them,  but 
he  has  withdrawn  his  objections.  I  don't  know  whether 
it  should  be  called  an  armistice,  or  strained  diplomatic 
relations.  He  won't  speak  to  or  see  Grey,  but  he  won't 
make  his  daughter  unhappy,  as  she  will  be  that  soon 
enough,  he  says.  He  pays  Grey  $3,000  yearly  until  Nellie 
has  cause  to  complain — then  the  allowance  stops  at  once 
and  forever.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  hope  it  will  be  effective.  Grey  is  certainly  an  ad- 
venturer, but  he  may  be  able  to  settle  down  on  that. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  125 

I  am  glad  you  invited  them,  for  I  want  to  meet  him  and 
study  him.     Why  not  keep  them  here  for  a  week  ?  " 

There  is  a  light  in  Mrs.  Carter's  eyes,  and  a  slight 
feverishness  of  manner  that  Mabelle  notices  and  wonders 
at  when  the  two  women  meet  the  next  morning.  The  Fly 
has  made  the  run  over  from  Cornwall  in  quick  time,  and 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Smith  reach  Brookside  nearly  an  hour  be- 
fore the  preparations  are  completed  for  the  flitting. 

The  valises,  bundles,  two  children  and  nurse  have  been 
started  off  in  Charlie  Warren's  carryall.  Dick  has  gone 
into  the  house  for  some  cigars.  Mrs.  Carter  stands 
waiting  at  the  door.  Mabelle,  who  has  been  sitting  in  a 
hammock,  sees  a  flower  she  wants  and  goes  to  pick  it. 
There  is  a  larger  bunch  at  the  end  of  the  side  piazza,  and 
as  she  drops  on  her  knees  beside  it  to  select  the  choicest, 
she  hears  the  murmur  of  voices.  Unconsciously  she 
glances  up.  Her  eyes,  on  a  level  with  the  piazza  floor, 
have  a  clear  view  of  the  parlor,  for  the  curtain  in  front  of 
the  far  side-window  has  been  drawn  up  a  few  inches,  one 
shutter  is  open,  and  she  cannot  help  both  seeing  and 
hearing  the  small  comedy.  Mrs.  Carter  has  stepped  back 
into  the  parlor,  closed  the  door,  and  she  and  Dick,  clasped 
closely  in  one  another's  arms,  are  kissing  as  if  it  were  a 
farewell  before  an  execution.  Perhaps  there  is  some  such 
feeling  in  Mrs.  Carter's  mind  as  she  recalls  the  fact  that 
she  is  taking  Dick  into  the  camp  of  the  enemy. 

There  is  no  mistaking  the  Pandemian  for  the  Uranian 
kiss,  and  Mabelle's  face  pales  slightly,  then  colors,  as  she 
rises  quickly  and  walks  away,  her  footsteps  making  no 
sound  on  the  soft  lawn — keeping  the  flowers.  There  is 
;i  smile  on  her  lips  as  she  walks  slowly  to  the  carriage 
where  Smith  is  standing  in  some  impatience. 

"  They  will  be  here  in  half  a  minute,  Billy  ;  give  them 
that  in  which  to  bid  good-bye." 


126  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  To  what?" 

" '  Midnight  talks,moonlight  walks ;  the  glance  of  the 
eye  and  heartfelt  sigh,'  "  she  replies  mischievously. 

Smith  grins.     "  Was  Gypsy  right  ?  " 

"  Yes.     She  is  always  right." 

He  colors  as  he  thinks  of  what  she  said  about  himself. 

The  two  truants  appear  in  the  doorway,  their  faces 
slightly  flushed. 

"  We  are  ready  now.  I  am  very  sorry  we  have  kept 
you  waiting  so  long." 

"  It  is  a  perfect  delight  to  wait  here,  Mrs.  Carter. 
One  can  only  regret  that  it  is  not  forever  when  it  is 
waiting  with  you,"  Smith  replies.  "  How  you  can  tear 
yourself  away  from  here  for  our  ruder  and  breezier  sig- 
nal station  I  cannot  imagine.  Is  it  possible,  may  I  dare 
hope,  that  it  is  from  some  personal  regard  for  me?" 
The  tender  concern  of  his  voice,  the  affectionate  caress 
he  gives  to  the  words,  the  strictly  confidential  manner, 
set  them  all  laughing. 

"  You  have  not  answered  my  question,"  he  says,  re- 
proachfully, when  they  are  seated  in  the  carriage  and 
moving  along  the  hard  sandy  road.  "May  I  hope  that — 
it  is  because — you  are  kind?  " 

"  Am  I  not  going  especially  to  honor  you — and  for  no 
other  purpose?  Are  you  thirty-one  years  old  to-day 
without  understanding  how  hard  it  is  for  a  woman  to 
show  her — "  she  casts  her  eyes  down  in  modest  confu- 
sion, blushes  divinely,  and  whispers  so  that  all  can  hear 
— "  preference  openly. 

No  bashful  maiden  of  sixteen  could  have  done  it  bet- 
ter, and  their  mirth  has  not  subsided  by  the  time  they 
reach  the  village  street  and  straighten  up  to  run  the 
gauntlet  of  curious  and  inquisitive  eyes  that  stare  at 
them  from  every  porch  or  window. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  127 

Smith  does  the  honors  of  the  boat,  helping  the  ladies 
as  if  they  were  eggs,  and  as  he  lifts  Mabelle  lightly  to 
the  deck,  he  wickedly  winks  at  her,  and  she  answers 
with  a  decidedly  affirmative  nod,  her  eyes  brimming 
with  mischief. 

The  Fly  was  a  thirty  five  foot  skimming  dish,  fifteen 
feet  wide,  with  plenty  of  floor,  stiff  as  a  church,  having 
a  weather  helm,  and  a  cockpit  as  comfortable  as  a  bar- 
ber's chair.  Smith  had  pulled  out  the  stiff  church-pew 
seat,  and  replaced  it  with  a  wide  one  having  an  in- 
clined back — a  divan  in  fact.  The  seat  and  back  were 
supplied  with  soft  cushions  that  could  be  stowed  away, 
and  every  two  feet  there  were  broad  slings  for  the  arms. 

"  Isn't  this  comfortable,  Nellie  ?  "  Mabelle  asks,  as  she 
piles  half-a-dozen  pillows  and  curls  up.  "  Do  as  I  do." 

But  Smith  arranges  them  for  Mrs.  Carter  with  a  de- 
votion that  is  almost  touching.  "  If  there  is  a  rose  leaf 
rumpled,  let  me  know,"  he  tells  her  tenderly. 

"  There  is  not,  I  assure  you,"  she  replies,  as  she  settles 
down  on  them.  "  Agnes,  be  very  careful  with  the  chil- 
dren." 

"  Rest  aizy,  mum ;  I  shall  not  let  go  me  howld." 

"  Is  that  her  name  ?  "  The  whisper  is  very  confiden- 
tial. 

"  Yes,"  she  replies,  in  the  same  tone.  "  And  my  cook  is 
named  Edith  Florence,  and  the  chambermaid,  Maud 
Ethel.  Her  full  name  " — nodding  to  the  nurse — "  is 
Agnes  Cordelia  Flannagan.  She  has  dropped  the  O, 
and  looks,  down  with  scorn  upon  the  cook,  whose  patro- 
nymic is  O'Shaughnessy." 

Dick  feels  left  out  in  the  co.d,  and  lies  at  full  length 
on  the  cushions  blowing  rings  from  his  cigar.  The 
women  are  on  either  side  of  Smith,  and  there  is  a  small 


128  IT  1$  THE  LA]]'. 

mountain  of  pillow  between  him  and  Mabelle.  A  se- 
cret sense  of  relief  comes  when  Smith,  who  is  too  thor- 
ough a  yachtsman  to  let  pleasure  interfere  with  duty, 
gives  his  whole  attention  to  the  boat.  The  wind  is  fresh 
from  the  nor-west  and  the  Fly  is  carrying  more  canvas 
than  a  coasting  schooner  in  a  white-ash  breeze. 

It  is  the  short  leg.  The  Fly  is  jammed  into  the  wind 
as  closely  as  she  will  go,  the  sail  flattened  down  and  the 
boom  aboard.  They  have  just  passed  another  boat 
working  up  the  river,  and  every  one  except  Smith  and 
Drivvels  is  watching  it  and  waving  handkerchiefs. 
Drivvels  stands  on  the  deck  with  his  back  to  the  cock- 
pit, leaning  against  the  mast  and  keeping  a  sharp  look- 
out. Smith,  glancing  under  the  boom,  sees  Box,  the 
small  Carter  boy,  climb  suddenly  upon  the  seat  at  the 
farther  end,  behind  his  nurse,  lean  over  the  cock-pit  rail 
on  the  lee  side  as  the  boat  heels  a  little  with  a  puff  of 
wind,  topple  over  it  on  the  deck,  roll  to  the  low 
bulwark,  and  fall  overboard  as  he  attempts  to  rise. 

It  is  not  ten  seconds  from  the  time  the  boy  had  climb- 
ed upon  the  seat  before  he  is  in  the  water.  There  is  no 
opportunity  to  do  anything  to  save  him  from  going  over- 
board ;  but,  as  he  topples  over  on  the  deck,  Smith  calls 
out  in  a  ringing  voice,  "  Drivvels,  here  !  Quick. !  "  Then 
he  springs  to  the  stern  and  dives  as  the  boy  swirls  by, 
striking  the  water  within  a  few  feet  of  him. 

The  boat,  left  to  herself,  comes  slowly  up  into  the 
wind,  and  her  sails  shiver  as  Drivvels  leaps  into  the 
cock-pit  and  casts  off  the  sheet,  holding  it  by  a  single 
turn  around  the  cleet. 

"  Sit  down !  "  he  commands,  as  the  women  and  Dick 
spring  to  their  feet ;  "  sit  down  or  your  heads  will  go  off." 
The  swinging  boom  forces  compliance.  "  It's  nothing," 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  129 

he  says,  grimly  ;  "  the  boss  swims  like  a  duck  and  wants 
to  show  them  fellers  he  can  swim  faster  nor  they  can 
sail." 

Nobody  believes  him.  But  no  one  knows  what  is  the 
matter.  Their  faces  are  pale,  and  their  eyes  are  strained 
to  see  the  swimmer,  now  half  a  mile  away.  No  one 
misses  Box. 

Suddenly  an  unearthly  howl  comes  from  the  nurse, 
Agnes.  "  Master  Frank,  where  is  master  Frank?  He's 
in  the  say !  He's  in  the  say ! "  and  she  climbs  up  on  the 
weather  side  to  cast  herself  overboard.  Dick  hinders 
her,  but  he  has  to  pull  her  down  and  sit  on  her  to  do  it. 
He  cannot  stop  her  howls. 

"  My  boy,  my  boy  !  "  Mrs.  Carter  attempts  to 
stand,  and  falls  back  half  fainting. 

"  Is  safe  and  sound,  ma'am,  aboard  that  boat  yonder," 
Drivvels  says  firmly,  pointing  to  the  other  yacht,  whose 
sails  are  shaking.  "  There's  nothing  to  be  worried  at. 
There's  nothing  whatever  the  matter.  The  boss  had 
him  the  minute  he  struck  the  water,  and  has  been  learn- 
ing him  how  to  swim  until  they  picked  'em  up.  We'll 
have  'em  aboard  again  in  another  minute.'' 

"  Is  it  true  ?  "  she  asks  Mabelle,  whose  arms  are  around 
her. 

"  Look  and  see  for  yourself,  ma'am.  There  they  are  ! 
They  are  calling  to  you." 

Drivvels  brings  the  Fly  around  the  other  boat  with 
the  skill  of  a  juggler.  Smith  is  standing  on  the  weather 
side  by  the  stern,  the  boy  on  his  right  arm,  and  as  Driv- 
vels steers  the  Fly  within  six  inches  of  the  Bella  ho 
grasps  the  shroud  with  his  left  hand  and  swings  himself 
aboard. 

"  Well  done,  Drivvels,  well  done  ! "  he  calls  out,  as  he 
9 


130  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

drops  Box  into  the  cockpit  on  the  still  howling  nurse. 
"  Sit  on  her  mouth,  Dick,  for  heaven's  sake." 

The  half-dozen  men  in  the  other  yacht  cheer  frantic- 
ally as  the  boats  part  company  again,  and  Mabelle  and 
Dick  wave  their  handkerchiefs  and  return  the  cheer, 
but  very  feebly.  Mrs.  Carter  is  hugging  her  very  wet 
boy.  Drivvels,  with  a  wooden  and  expressionless  face, 
is  giving  every  portion  of  his  mind  to  his  work,  and  the 
nurse  is  on  the  floor  leaning  against  the  centre-board, 
rubbing  her  eyes,  and  showing  a  great  deal  of  white 
stocking. 

"  Billy,  come  here,"  Mabelle  commands. 

"  In  a  minute,  my  dearest,"  he  replies,  chaffingly. 

He  has  taken  Drivvels'  place  by  the  mast,  and  has 
emptied  the  water  out  of  his  shoes.  The  second  one 
is  hard  to  get  on  again. 

"  Come  here,  now,"  she  repeats,  firmly. 

"I  am  too  wet,  just  now,  ducky  love." 

"I  want  you  wet  and  as  you  are.     Come  !  " 

He  leaps  down  into  the  cockpit  beside  her,  for  she  is 
standing  near  the  forward  end,  with  one  arm  on  the 
centre-board  box. 

"  What  is  it,  Mabelle  ? "  She  has  made  him  a  little 
anxious. 

"  I  want  to  kiss  you,"  she  says,  with  a  sob. 

His  face  flushes.  "  But  you  will  get  wet,"  he  replies, 
with  the  keenest  regret,  as  if  that  were  an  insurmount- 
able barrier.  He  is  bending  over  her,  and  she  clasps  her 
arms  around  his  neck.  "  I  want  to  get  wet — from  you." 
She  turns  her  face  up  to  his,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  kisses  him  three  times.  She  feels  him  tremble  a§ 
he  returns  them,  and  releases  him, 

^  You  are  cold." 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  131 

"With  these  flannels  on?  Nonsense!  But  you  are 
wet,"  he  says,  remorsefully 

"  I  wish  I  were,  I  would  never  let  my  clothes  dry.  I 
would  keep  them  as  they  were,  to — " 

"  O,  Mr.  Smith,  how  can  I  thank  you  for  saving 
Frank's  life  ?  "  Mrs.  Carter  interrupts.  "  What  can  I 
do  or  say  ?  " 

Both  of  her  hands  are  holding  his.  He  knows  that 
if  he  will  give  her  a  chance  she  too  will  kiss  him.  But 
Mabelle's  first  kisses  are  on  his  lips,  and  it  would  be 
profanation  to  let  any  others  rest  there. 

"  Nonsense,"  he  repeats,  kindly.  It's  a  favorite  word 
with  him.  "  The  boy  tumbled  overboard  and  I  picked 
him  up.  That's  nothing.  You  must  get  accustomed  to 
his  tumbling  overboard.  I  fell  in  twenty  times  before 
I  was  twelve,  and  never  once  asked  who  pulled  rne 
out." 

The  latter  part  of  the  sentence  was  not  true.  Smith 
could  "  lie  as  fast  as  a  horse  could  trot "  when  it  served 
a  purpose. 

"  But  you  risked  your  life  ?  " 

"  Why,  no  !  I  take  a  header  like  that  every  time  we 
come  out  alone,  don't  I,  Drivvels  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Drivvels,  not  changing  a  muscle  of  his 
face.  "  I've  known  him  to  do  that  mor'n  a  thousand 
times." 

At  this  there  is  a  howl  of  laughter  from  Dick,  and  a 
broad  smile  from  the  others.  Drivvels  had  been  acquired 
when  the  yacht  had  been  purchased,  a  month  previous- 
ly ;  but  evidently  he  was  not  going  to  let  the  skipper 
out-lie  him. 

"  Box  had  better  have  some  dry  clothing,"  Smith  sug- 
gests. "  Haven't  you  sojne  handy  in  those  bundles  ?  " 


132  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

"  I've  had  a  bully  swim,"  Box  says  to  Cox,  as  Agnes 
gets  the  necessary  apparel  and  yanks  him  forward  to 
change  his  sailor  suit. 

Then  they  laugh  again.  His  mother's  fear  disappears, 
and  she  feels  like  slapping  him. 

"  I  like  that  boy,"  Smith  tells  her.  "  When  I  turned 
him  over  and  said,  '  Now  let's  have  a  little  swim,'  he 
spluttered  for  a  moment,  and  as  soon  as  he  got  the  water 
out  of  his  mouth  he  asked  me  if  I  could  float  on  my 
back.  I  was  teaching  him  to  tread  water  when  the 
Bella  came  up  to  us.  He  hasn't  an  atom  of  fear." 

Mrs.  Carter  laughs  nervously.  "  I  wish  he  had  a 
little.  He  is  always  getting  into  scrapes.  But  won't 
you  catch  cold  ?  " 

"  Not  I.  If  I  thought  there  was  the  slightest  chance 
of  it,  I  should  retire  to  the  small  cabin  in  the  bow  and 
change  my  clothing.  I  have  a  suit  in  there,  but  I  think 
I  look  so  much  better  in  this  sailor  toggery — I  feel  so 
much  better,  anyway — that  I  am  not  willing  to  lose 
the  good  impression  it  made  in  my  favor  at  Brookside. 
I'll  be  dry  by  the  time  we  land." 

"  Do  you  know,"  Dick  says,  lazily,  "  that,  if  you  were 
not  a  very  much  married  man  already,  I  should  begin  to 
think  you  intended  to  trifle  with  my  aunt's  affections  ? 
She  had  better  keep  a  weather  eye  open — isn't  that 
what  you  call  it  ?  " 

"  Billy's  attentions  are  strictly  honorable,"  Mabelle 
says.  "  There's  luck  in  odd  numbers,  and,  having  two 
wives,  there's  no  reason  why  he  shouldn't  have  three. 
How  does  the  idea  strike  you,  Billy  ?  " 

"  That's  just  what  I  have  been  thinking  of  all  day. 
Monogamy  is  logically  wrong.  Everything  is  in  threes. 
Every  thought  is  triune.  You  cannot  conceive  of  the 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  133 

number  2  except  as  limited  by  1  and  3,  or  as  hav- 
ing a  figure  1  on  one  side,  and  a  figure  3  on  the  other, 
these  other  two  being  its  logical  determinants.  Every 
idea  or  conception  is  subject  to  the  same  law  of  the 
'  intelligent  triad,'  and  the  idea  of  a  wife  is  no  more  an 
exception  than  is  that  of  a  Deity,  which  finds  in  this  law 
the  necessity  for  a  Trinity.  If  Mabelle  is  number  2, 
it's  because  Jane  is  number  1,  and  somebody  else,  logi- 
cally, should  be  number  3." 

"  Please  excuse  me,"  Mrs.  Carter  says  ;  "  I  do  not 
want  one-third  of  a  man." 

"  Billy"  isn't  clear,"  Mabelle  hastens  to  explain. 
"  What  Pythagoras  really  says  is  that  every  thought  is 
made  up  of  a  definite  one  and  an  indefinite  two.  Now  his 
thought  of  a  wife  is  made  up  of  the  definite  Me  and  the 
indefinite  Jane  and  the  indefinite  You.  To  divide  him 
up  would  be  to  make  each  of  you  a  definite  one,  and  in- 
troduce six  other  woman  as  '  logical  determinants.'  I 
don't  like  that  phrase,  Billy.  It's  not  clear.  No,  you 
must  remain  indefinite — even  as  Jane  does." 

"  And  when,  in  the  name  of  the  seven  Sutherland 
sisters,  did  you  read  Pythagoras  ?  "  She  is  a  constant 
source  of  wonder  to  Dick. 

"  Billy  lias  made  a  collection  of  the  '  remains,'  and  I 
have  read  his  manuscript  translation.  You  see,  do  you 
not,  that  there  is  no  question  of  landlord  and  tenant ;  no 
question  of  a  division  of  the  property,  only  of  its  use  ? 
I  hold  him  as  tenant  in  possession,  by  your  gracious  per- 
mission— and  Jane's — for  life  or  good  behavior ;  and 
until  I  cease  to  be  the  wife  in  esse  you  both  must  re- 
main in  pos*e — a  mere  potentiality,  like  a  cardinal  in 
petto  or  a  bishop  in  partibus." 

"  But  that's  worse  yet.  You  don't  give  me  even  the 
third  to  which  every  widow  is  entitled  by  law." 


134  IT  /-s  THE  LA  W. 

"  Not  every  widow,"  Smith  says,  lightly.  "  In  a  short 
time  few  widows  will  be  so  fortunate  as  you  have  been. 
One-sixth  or  one-ninth  will  be  the  best  they  can  claim. 
They  will  be  lucky  if  they  get  the  twenty-fourth." 

"How  is  that?  I  do  not  understand." 

"  When  I  married  Jane,  she  was  endowed  by  the  cere- 
mony with  a  one-third  life  interest  in  my  estate.  When 
I  married  Mabelle  I  was  not  called  upon  to  endow  her. 
The  law  took  from  Jane  one-half  her  life  interest  and 
gave  it  to  Mabelle — so  that  each  now  only  holds  one- 
sixth.  If  you  will  honor  me  with  your  hand — your 
heart!  hope  is  mine — the  law  will  take  from  each  of  them 
one-third  of  what  they  have  left  and  give  it  to  you,  so 
that  the  portion  of  each  wife  will  be  one-ninth.  The 
first  wife  is  compelled  to  dower  the  second  wife,  and 
both  to  dower  the  third." 

"  Jesting  aside,"  Dick  says,  "  do  you  mean  that  you 
can  marry  again,  lawfully,  without  losing  either  of  your 
wives  ?  " 

"  Yes,  with  certain  little  formalities." 

"  And  these  are  ?  " 

"  A  divorce,  valid  in  the  state  where  I  marry,  but 
not  valid  in  any  other.  Then  the  third  marriage  will 
be  valid  in  this  state,  and  the  divorce  will  not  be,  so  I 
will  have  three  lawful  wives,  all  of  whom  I  must  support." 

"  How  long  do  these  formalities  take  ?  " 

"  That  depends.  If  a  strange  state  is  selected,  one 
year's  residence  is  required  (but  seldom  insisted  up- 
on). I  happen  to  be  a  lawful  resident  of  three  states  and 
a  voter  in  two.*  In  either  one  it  would  take  me  about 

*  He  is  a  natural-born  citizen  of  the  United  States,  but  he  is  not  a 
voter  in  Rhode  Island,  although  he  has  a  legal  residence  there  and  is 
the  owner  of  a  large  amount  of  personal  property.  He  was  born  of 
American  parents  while  temporarily  outside  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
United  States  (in  Montana,  within  the  jurisdiction  of  a  trealy  tribe), 
and  the  Rhode  Island  election  law  grants  suffrage  in  such  cases  only 
when  the  natural  born  citizen  owns  real  estate.  Native  born  citizens 


IT  IS  THE  LA  IF.  135 

four  months  to  fulfil  every  lawful   requirement  and  be 
perfectly  free  to  marry." 

"  Then  there  would  be  no  impropriety  in  a  married 
man  courting  an  unmarried  woman?  He  could  marry 
her  if  he  wished  ?  " 

"'  None  whatever,  in  this  state.  The  disabilities  in 
the  case  of  a  married  man  possessed  of  some  small  means 
would  be  much  less  than  those  imposed  on  a  poor 
bachelor  without  money  enough  to  pay  his  board  or 
rent  in  advance.  All  that  idea  of  impropriety  in  mar- 
ried men  pursuing  spinsters  is  past  and  gone — it  is  a 
mere  survival  of  barbarism.  The  Court  of  Appeals 
in  1883  *  wiped  it  out.  There's  nothing  in  the  fact 
that  a  man  is  already  married  to  keep  him  from  courting 
and  marrying  single  women,  or  to  keep  single  women 
from  being  so  courted." 

"  And  sauce  for  the  gander  is  sauce  for  the  goose  ?" 
asks  Dick. 

"  Certainly.  Married  women  have  equal  rights  to  be 
courted  by  single  men,  or  married  men  for  that  matter. 
But  they  haven't  so  many  opportunities  for  the  divorce." 

"  Then  all  you  have  said  in  jest  this  morning  might 
possibly  be  said  to  me  in  earnest  by  some  married  man — 
lawfully  be  said  to  me  by  him?"  Mrs  Carter  is  shock- 
ed. She  shivers.  "  Don't  pretend  any  more.  I  won't 
have  it.  Some  one  might  think  you  were  in  earnest. 
And  how  much  jest  it  robs  one  of  !  I  shall  never  dare 
flirt  again,  even  for  a  minute." 

Smith  laughs.  "  You  make  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole- 
hill. Anything  lawful  is  proper  and  right.  Why  ob- 
ject if — it  is  the  law  ?  " 

*  02  New  York,  526. 

in   Rhode  Maud  do  not  have  to  own  real  estate,  l>ut  foreign-born  (nat- 
ural-born) cili/.'Mis  and  alien-horn  (n;il  nrali/  •<!)  citizens    must  own  real 
.  in  order  to    vote.      TliU  ^as  a  -lin  of   tl,c   law  makers,  who    re- 
st -ict  •<!  tin*  registered  voter-  -o  ••  ttntiff  mal«»cit|j5i»u».M  forgetting  tliat 
troi-boril  citizens  mi^lil  !>•.•  erli  T  it  i!'i-/'-\,,,ri\  or    <>/•< /<//<-l>orn.. 


136  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

The  fining  pot  is  for  silver  and  the  furnace  for  gold  ; 
But  the  Lord  trieth  the  hearts. 

Prov.  xvn,  3. 

WHEN  Smith  met  Grey  at  lunch  he  looked  at  him 
with  some  curiosity.  That  he  should  recognize  in  this 
adventurer  the  particular  insect  that  had  given  an  un- 
pleasant odor  to  what  otherwise  might  have  been  a  fra- 
grant balm,  was  not  to  be  expected.  The  smooth-shaven, 
soft-voiced,  and  shy-mannered  man  bore  no  resemblance 
to  the  full-whiskered  Sunday-school  teacher  revealed  in 
the  photograph  Jane  had  shown  him  of  her  husband. 
The  change  of  his  name  from  Greene  to  Grey,  and  the 
removal  of  a  beard,  unreaped  for  ten  years,  not  to  men- 
tion his  recent  marriage  and  his  very  presence  in  Smith's 
house,  made  recognition  impossible  for  any  one  except, 
of  course,  Jane.  The  beard  had  been  sacrificed  since  the 
flight  from  Long  Branch,  but  no  disguise  was  ever  yet 
invented  that  could  not  be  penetrated  by  a  jealous 
woman. 

Grey  was  in  ignorance  of  the  events  that  had  happen- 
ed since  he  slipped  away  from  Tipton  between  two  days. 
He  supposed,  naturally,  that  Jane  had  followed  him  to 
New  York,  and  that  the  meeting  at  Long  Branch  had 
been  but  an  accident,  for  he  understood  from  her  words 
that  she  knew  nothing  of  his  marriage  with  Nellie 
Brown.  That  there  could  be  the  remotest  connection 
between  his  easy-mannered  host  and  his  forsaken  wife 
would  never  occur  to  him. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  137 

It  did  not  take  Smith  more  than  a  few  minutes  to 
place  Grey.  "A  country  clerk,"  he  said  to  himself, 
'who  has  obtained  a  rather  better  education  than  usual 
because  he  knows  education  is  necessary  to  make  a 
knave."  The  others  are  slower  in  finding  him  out.  It 
is  easy  for  them  to  see  that  he  is  not  perfectly  well- 
bred,  but  the  little  slips  are  unconscious  and  do  not 
disturb  his  serenity,  however  much  they  annoy  Mrs. 
Grey,  whose  illusions  are  rapidly  vanishing,  if  they 
have  not  already  disappeared. 

Half-a-dozen  stories  by  Smith  of  adventures  among 
his  constituents  while  engaged  in  his  last  canvass,  make 
the  luncheon  exceedingly  merry.  Then  the  men  and 
their  cigars  find  a  place  on  the  eastern  veranda  as  the 
women  disappear. 

"  Ah  !  "  says  Grey,  leaning  back  and  putting  up  his 
feet  on  the  rail,  "  tins  is  what  I  call  solid  comfort." 

"  What  is  your  idea  of  perfect  happiness  ? "  Dick 
asks. 

u  Nothing  to  do  ;  plenty  to  eat,  drink,  and  smoke  ; 
lots  of  pretty  girls."  Greene  rather  prides  himself  on 
his  epigrammatic  powers  in  conversation. 

"  That's  the  Moslem  idea,  translated  into  modern 
English,"  Smith  says.  "  But  it  palls  after  a  time.  One 
sighs  for  occupation." 

"  You  must  have  plenty.  I  don't  see  how  you  can 
find  time  to  practice  law,  pull  political  wires,  and  still 
have  fun." 

"  I  don't  practice  law.     I  only  amuse  myself  at  it." 

"  But  you  sent  a  lot  of  notes  to  my  lawyer  that 
helped  me  out  of  the  hole  I  got  into  by  marrying  Nellie. 
I  am  very  grateful  indeed  for  it,  and  I  told  your  wife 
so  yesterday." 


138  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  That  was  nothing.  I  went  over  all  that  point  once 
for  a  constituent  of  mine,  who  was  in  for  a  worse  sen- 
tence than  yours  would  have  been,  for  illegal  voting,  and 
I  sent  ray  references  in  that  case  to  your  lawyer.  My 
sister  has  told  me  the  story  of  your  courtship  and  mar- 
riage— Mrs.  Grey  and  she  were  schoolmates,  as  you 
know — but  I  should  like  to  get  the  facts  in  order,  for 
they  must  be  romantic.  All  the  world  loves  a  lover." 

"  Yes,  it  was  romantic.  About  two  years  ago  I  went 
to  a  little  village  up  in  the  Adirondacks,  for  my  health. 
It  was  frightfully  stupid,  and  I  advertised  for  cor- 
respondents. Among  the  answers  was  one  from  Nellie. 
We  corresponded  for  a  year,  exchanged  photographs, 
and  finally  fell  in  love.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
chance  of  her  father's  consenting,  she  was  so  young. 
So  I  came  down  to  New  York,  and  we  met  at  the  minis- 
ter's. Ten  minutes  after  we  met  for  the  first  time,  we 
were  man  and  wife." 

He  had  been  born  in  Ridgeville  and  had  never  before 
been  out  of  the  county.  He  liked  lying  for  lying's  sake. 

"  How  did  Brown  find  it  out  ?     Did  you  tell  him  ?  " 

"  Nellie  was  awfully  scared  after  we  were  married, 
and  begged  me  not  to  press  matters ;  but  I  wasn't  that 
kind  of  a  hairpin.  After  we  had  been  married  a  week  I 
went  to  the  old  man  and  introduced  myself  as  his  son- 
in-law.  He  reared  up  on  his  hind  legs  and  howled  for  a 
policeman.  The  policeman  refused  to  arrest  me  at  first, 
but  when  the  old  man  insisted,  and  charged  me  with 
felony,  he  run  me  in.  I  will  admit  that  I  was  awfully 
scared  when  I  heard  him  tell  the  captain  that  his 
daughter  was  not  sixteen  years  old  when  I  married  her, 
and  the  captain  reply  that  I  would  certainly  get  five 
years.  I  never  knew  it  was  against  the  law  to  marry  a 
woman." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  139 

"  It  has  always  been  a  felony  to  marry  a  girl  under 
sixteen  years  of  age  without  her  parent's  consent.  You 
might  have  taken  a  girl  of  ten  as  your  concubine,*  her 
parents  consenting  ;  but  you  would  not  have  been  per- 
mitted to  marry  her  until  she  had  lived  with  you  as 
your  mistress  for  two  years,  and  was  twelve  years  old. 
Any  ceremony  would  have  been  null  and  void  during 
the  two  years  between  ten  and  twelve.  This  season  of 
immorality  was  religiously  '  preserved  '  by  Church  and 
State  for  the  profit  of  the  parent,  and  he  was  protected 
in  it  for  six  years,  until  the  daughter  was  sixteen,  with 
every  safeguard  the  law  could  throw  around  him  and  it. 
A  wife  belongs  to  the  husband.  Marriage  extinguishes 
a  parent's  rights,  and  the  marriage  of  the  daughter  took 
from  the  parent  the  revenues  from  her  sale  or  lease  for 
immoral  purposes — robbed  him  in  fact  of  valuable  prop- 
erty. At  first  this  robbery,  otherwise  marriage,  was 
punishable  by  death ;  latterly  we  have  been  more  mer- 
ciful and  have  reduced  the  punishment  to  five  years'  im- 
prisonment and  a  heavy  fine.  The  parent  might  sell 
his  daughter  in  honorable  marriage,  if  he  wished  to  ; 
but  only  for  the  four  years  between  twelve  and  sixteen. 
Concubinage  and  immorality  were  honored  above  mar- 
riage, and  permitted  for  the  two  years  when  marriage 
was  forbidden — between  ten  and  twelve.  To  deco}'  the 
child  away  from  the  parent's  house  for  immoral  pur- 
poses was  punished  the  same  as  marriage  and  for  the 
same  reason — the  parent  lost  the  money. f  This  was 

*  The  age  was  raised  to  sixteen,  June  24,  1887. 

t  282  "  A  person  who  takes  a  female  under  the  age  of  sixteen  years, 
ii-iilinnt  the,  consent  of  her  father,  mother,  guardian,  or  other  person 
having  legal  charge  of  her  person,  for  the  purpose  of  marriage  or  for 
immoral  purposes  is  punishable  by  imprisonment  for  not  more  than 
live  years,  or  by  a  fine  of  $1,000,  or  by  both.1' — Criminal  Code,  1885. 


140  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

the  law  up  to  the  present  session  of  the  Legislature. 
Last  spring  we  took  from  the  parent  the  right  to  sell 
the  daughter,  we  wiped  out  this  long-established  right 
of  property,  and  we  made  it  a  felony  whether  the  parent 
consented  or  not.*  But  we  kept  the  stigma  upon  mar- 
riage." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  A  woman  may  be  lawfully  married  at  twelve.  That 
is  common  law.  We  have  no  statute  law.  If  her 
parents  do  not  consent,  the  marriage  may  in  some  in- 
stances be  set  aside.  If  the  girl  be  fourteen  f  no  court 
in  the  state  has  power  to  set  the  marriage  aside.  It  is 
final.  This  is  statute  law.  She  is  of  full  age  to  know 
her  mind,  the  civil  law  says.  The  marriage  is  right  and 
proper,  the  civil  law  says.  But  the  man  who  marries 
her  must  have  five  years'  imprisonment,  the  criminal 
law  says,  because  marriage  is  not  to  be  preferred  to  im- 
morality, and  no  distinction  should  be  made  between 
the  one  and  the  other,  as  a  matter  of  morals." 

"  But  why  is  it  that  the  husband  must  go  to  prison 
where  the  bride  is  over  fourteen,  when  no  court  has  a 
right  to  set  aside  such  a  marriage  ?  Why  should  a  man 
be  punished  for  making  a  valid  and  lawful  marriage 
against  which  no  objection  can  possibly  be  urged,  and 
which  must  remain  in  force  for  life  as  proper  and  right  ?  " 

§278.  "  Rape  is  when  the  female  is  under  the  age  of  ten  years." 
— Criminal  Code,  1885.  There  is  no  felonious  assault  in  case  of  con- 
sent. People  cs.  Bransby,  32  Jf.  Y.  525.  "  Resistance  is  necessary 
M'hen  the  child  is  over  ten  years."  People  vs.  Morrison,  1  Park,  625; 
People  vs.  Dohring,  1  Park,  628.  See  also  6  England,  389;  1  Den. 
142;  2  Clark,  567;  30  Ala.  54,  39  Mo.,  322,  22  111,  160,  etc.  This  was 
amended  June  24,  1887,  making  the  age  16  instead  of  10. 

*  Act  of  March  3,  1887. 

t  He  succeeded  in  having  this  changed  to  sixteen  by  act  of  Feb.  21, 
1887. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  141 

"  That  is  what  I  asked  the  hayseeds  who  botched  the 
bill  last  spring.  There  is  no  reason.  There  never  was 
any  reason  why  a  man  should  go  to  prison  for  marrying 
a  girl  of  fourteen,  or  even  twelve,  except  in  the  parents' 
right  to  sell  the  daughter  and  derive  revenue  from  her 
immoral  conduct.  When  we  took  that  right  away,  we 
should  have  made  the  age  for  marriage  without  the 
parents'  consent  which  the  Civil  Code  put  at  fourteen,  the 
lawful  age  when  a  man  might  marry  a  woman  without 
committing  a  crime — keeping  the  lawful  age  for  im- 
morality at  sixteen,  and  putting  marriage  at  a  premium. 
But  the  lunkheads  on  the  committee  with  me  would 
not  admit  that  there  was  any  difference  between  mar- 
riage and  immorality,  or  that  there  should  be  any  dis- 
tinction between  them.  When  I  proposed  to  harmonize 
the  civil  and  criminal  codes  by  raising  the  fourteen  years 
in  the  former  to  the  sixteen  years  in  the  latter,  giving 
them  their  way,  but  avoiding  the  conflict,  they  would 
not  listen.  They  insisted  upon  punishing  the  husband 
because  he  robbed  the  parents  of  property  they  did  not 
possess — which  the  law  had  previously  taken  away  from 
them."  * 

"  What  a  commentary  on  our  laws  and  our  civiliza- 
tion !  Why  we  are  as  bad  as  the  Mormons  !  " 

"  A  thousand  times  worse.  The  Mormons  are  saints 
compared  with  us,  Dick !  They  are  not  hypocrites  and 
liars,  arid  we  are.  They  shout,  '  Let  a  man  openly  and 
honestly  marry  two  or  more  wives  ;  but  let  us  have  no 
immorality.'  And  they  have  no  immorality.  We  whisper, 
'  Let  a  man  marry  as  many  wives  as  he  will,  provided 

*  At  the  next  session  he  forced  them  to  harmonize  the  two  codes  and 
wipe  out  this  absurdity.  The  age  of  criminal  and  civil  consent  is  now 
sixteen  years,  by  act  of  June  2-i,  1887,  aud  the  act  of  Feb.  21,  1887. 


142  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

he  does  it  underhandedly,  sneakingly,  and  by  a  subter- 
fuge ;  but  immorality  is  to  be  preferred  to  marriage.' 
And  we  are  morally  rotten  to  the  core.  We  put  up  an 
immense  sign, 

HERE  YOU  CAN  HAVE  BUT  ONE  WIFE 

Unless  you  comply  with  a  few  easy  conditions. 

The  world  rushing  by  cheers  us,  because  it  cannot 
read  the  small  letters.  I  know  presonally  twenty  men 
in  New  York  to-day  who  have  either  three  or  four  law- 
ful wives,  all  acquired  in  the  past  three  years.  There 
are  thousands  such.  What  will  be  our  condition  when 
these  laws  have  been  in  existence  not  three  but  twenty 
years  ;  when  they  have  sapped  the  foundations  of  moral- 
ity and  right  living  ;  when  they  have  destroyed  all  the 
safeguards  of  social  intercourse  ?  I  jest  and  gibe  at  the 
truth,  but  it  is  to  emphasize  and  make  clear  our  shame- 
lessness  to  those  who  cannot  understand  any  other  argu- 
ment. My  blood  boils  when  I  think  of  it.  I  am  on  the 
judiciary  committee,  but  every  measure  I  offer,  every 
suggestion  I  make,  is  met  by  the  wooden-headed  members 
from  the  rural  districts  with  the  objection  that  'There 
ain't  no  popularity  or  politics  in  it.'  They  are  afraid  to 
meddle  with  such  questions.  Everybody  is  satisfied  with 
things  as  they  are,  they  say.  '  If  we  meddle,  we  will  dis- 
please somebody ;  make  enemies  and  gain  no  friends. 
That's  not  good  politics.'  It's  enough  to  make  a  man 
curse  Thomas  Jefferson  and  give  his  time  and  money  to 
a  steam-laundry."  * 

*  This  is  literally  true.  The  Pall  Mall  Gazette's  revelations  of  the 
social  vice  and  immorality  of  London  shocked  the  civilized  world.  But 
in  England  the  lawful  age  of  consent  at  that  time  was  fourteen,  and 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  143 

Two  small  hands  press  firmly  upon  his  shoulders. 
"  We  applaud  your  sentiments,  Billy  ;  but  what  do  you 
say  to  standing  on  the  top  of  Storm  King  and  pro- 
nouncing the  major  excommunication  against  all  those 
who  live  in  the  valleys  ?  We  have  made  up  a  little  party. 
Will  you  come  and  curse,  or  stay  and  smoke  ?  " 

Smith  looks  at  his  guests. 

"  I  will  go,  and  thank  you,"  Dick  says. 

"  Then  you  may  escort  Mrs.  Grey  and  Lilian — and 
make  your  sweetest  love  to  each,  Helen,  beware  !  He 
is  called  the  modern  Paris." 

"  Come  Robert,"  Mrs.  Grey  says,  blushing  slightly. 

He  rises,  reluctantly. 

"  You  may  take  care  of  Mrs.  Hart  and  Gypsy,  Mr. 
Menelaus.  See  if  you  can  be  as  charming  to  them  as 
Dick  will  certainly  be  to  your  wife  and  Lilian." 

Parliament  the  next  week  raised  it  to  sixteen.  Here  in  New  York  the  age 
of  criminal  consent  by  statute  law  was  only  TEN  years,  with  two 
years  of  the  girl's  life,  between  ten  and  twelve,  especially  reserved  for 
concubinage  and  immorality,  marriage  being  forbidden  under  any  cir- 
cumstances. But  it  took  three  years  of  the  hardest  labor  by  the  ablest 
and  strongest  members  of  the  State  legislature  to  get  any  change  what- 
ever, and  it  was  not  until  June  24, 1887,  that  this  disgrace  to  civilization 
was  finally  expunged  from  the  statutes.  Even  then  it  was  done  surrep- 
titiously, and  by  driblets,  one  word  being  changed  at  one  session  and 
another  word  at  the  next,  to  let  the  people  down  easy,  so  tliat.no  cry 
should  come  up  from  the  rural  counties  that  the  legislature  had  inter- 
fered with  religious  freedom  and  deprived  parents  of  their  immemo- 
rial rights  of  revenue  from  their  daughters'  shame.  The  legislatures  of 
other  states  have  KKJECTED  bills  to  raise  the  age  from  ten  years  to  four- 
teen or  sixteen,  fearing  to  face  the  people  whom  it  would  rob  of  revenue. 
The  hypocrisy  of  the  age  is  without  parallel  and  almost  incredible. 
The  men  who  shout  the  loudest  against  vice  are  those  who  resist  with 
every  power  they  possess  all  attempts  to  take  from  them  their  freedom 
within  the  laws  to  practice  immorality.  It  is  the  professed  Christian, 
and  him  only,  who  to-day  stands  firmly  opposed  to  all  attempts  to  sim- 
plify the  marriage  laws  and  prevent  polygamy  within  the  Jaw, 


144  IT  18  THE  LAW. 

Smith  offers  his  arm  to  Mrs.  Carter.  He  has  been 
holding  Mabelle's  hand  and  does  not  let  go  of  it.  His 
mutely  expressed  wish  has  changed  her  arrangements. 

"  '  How  happy  could  he  be  with  either  !'  "  he  remarks, 
as  he  looks  after  Dick. 

"  '  Why  don't  you  speak  for  yourself,  John?  ' ' 

"  I  let  '  I  dare  not  wait  upon  I  would.'  " 

"  '  He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 

Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
That  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch, 
To  gain  or  lose  it  all,'  " 

she  quotes  saucily. 

"  If  this  is  a  quotation  game,"  Mrs.  Carter  says,  "  I 
should  think  that  '  two  strings  to  one  beau  '  might  well 
make  '  his  seated  heart  knock  at  his  ribs.' ' 

"  And  do  you  '  think  it  legitimate  fun  to  be  poking 
away  at  every  one  with  a  sort  of  double-barrelled 

gun'?" 

"  Stop.  You  shall  not  make  '  light  of  cerous  things.' 
I  intended  you  to  be  the  escort  for  Mrs.  Grey  and  Mrs. 
Carter,  the  two  Helens.  Your  passion  for  everything 
Hellenic  made  that  very  appropriate.  I  wonder  if  that 
is  the  reason  for — " 

She  stops  short  suddenly — in  confusion.  The  thought 
that  had  flashed  across  her  mind  is  held  back. 

"What?" 

She  looks  down,  blushes,  then  half  whispers,  "  '  Tis 
Greece — but  living  grease  no  more. ' 

He  laughs,  but  understands,  and  answers  gravely, 
" '  No  more,  for  soul  is  wanting  there.'  " 

"  Mabelle,  if  you  don't  stop  your  love-making — with 
one  half  of  him,  at  least,  I'll — tell  the  others." 


IT  IS  TUE  LAW.  145 

"  Paris,  for  instance  ?  Troy  is  not  so  far  off — a  six 
hours'  ride  on  the  East  Shore  road.  Did  you  notice 
Menelaus  turn  green  at  seeing  his  sweet  wife's  open  ad- 
miration for  Paris  ?  "  The  "  Paris  "  is  for  her  husband's 
benefit.  The  scratch  is  for  Helen's. 

"  But  the  real  Paris  did  not  take  his  Helen  to  Troy, 
but  to  Tyre  and  then  to  Egypt,  where  he  lost  her,  and 
Menelaus  found  her  again.  They  will  slide  over  to 
New  Jersey."  Smith's  tone  is  so  confident  that  one 
would  naturally  infer  that  he  had  been  consulted  by 
them  and  had  arranged  their  route. 

"  And  the  real  Helen  was  ten  years  older  than  Paris. 
But  you  must  not  spoil  my  conceits  by  your  ugly  facts." 

Smith  is  amused.  He  sees  the  second  scratch,  al- 
though he  misses  the  first.  Mrs.  Carter  makes  a  mental 
memorandum.  She  always  pays  her  debts  with  interest, 
like  an  honest  woman. 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  have  been  very  much  aston- 
ished to  find  Smith  such  a  gentleman,"  Grey  remarks 
to  Dick,  as  they  are  playing  a  game  of  billiards  before 
dinner. 

"  Indeed !  what  did  you  expect  to  find  ?  "  Dick  is 
angry,  and  willing  to  draw  Grey  out,  for  he  has  a  strong 
admiration  for  his  worldly  and  commonplace  host. 

"  Why,  'one  of  the  gang,'  you  know.  He  has  been 
known  to  me  by  reputation  for  a  long  time — ever  since 
he  led  the  mob  of  roughs  up  to  the  State  Convention. 
The  Trybune  gave  him  fits." 

"Describe  what  you  thought  he  was  like?  " 

"  Well,  I  thought  he  was  a  tough  brought  up  in  the 
streets  ;  a  leader  of  a '  gang,'  who  had  probably  done  time 
himself  on  the  Island ;  a  petty  thief  or  pickpocket  who 
had  gone  into  politics  to  keep  from  State  Prison.  He 

10 


146  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

fought  two  or  three  prize  fights  when  he  was  young, 
you  know,  and  I  supposed  from  that  he  was  a 
pretty  hard  character.  That's  the  way  the  New  York 
newspapers  describe  him.  I  think  I  saw  in  a  newspaper 
once  that  he  learned  to  write  his  name  after  he  was 
elected  to  the  Assembly.  How  near  is  this  right  ?  It's 
the  general  opinion." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Dick  slowly,  a  red  spot  on  his  cheeks. 
"  I  haven't  the  least  doubt  that  was  your  idea  of  his 
character.  He  is  known  by  name  to  every  voter  in 
New  York,  and  over  a  hundred  thousand  think  very 
much  as  you  do.  Only  a  few  know  the  truth.  Do  you 
want  to  hear  it?  " 

"  Why,  yes.     I  would  be  glad  to." 

"  Then  listen,  for  these  are  the  cold  facts.  He  was  most 
carefully  educated  under  the  eye  of  a  noble  and  wise 
mother.  He  was  a  man  before  he  had  any  knowledge  of 
poverty  or  crime, except  from  books.  His  mother  was  aVan 
Rensselaer,  the  old  patroon's  only  daughter,  and  Smith's 
father  was  in  every  way  her  equal.  He  went  to  college 
with  my  Uncle  Harry,  and  I  have  heard  my  uncle  say 
that  he  was  the  most  hard-working  student  he  ever 
knew.  He  took  the  highest  honors  ever  given.  Then 
he  went  to  a  German  University  for  three  years,  study- 
ing harder  there  than  in  college.  When  he  returned  he 
went  into  business  and  finally  drifted  into  politics,  quite 
by  accident.  Mentally,  he  is  one  of  the  strongest  public 
men  we  have.  For  his  age  he  is  one  of  the  best  Greek 
scholars  of  the  world.  Greek  is  his  hobby,  and  he  has 
the  best  private  Greek  library  in  this  country.  He  has 
made  collections  of  the  quoted  words  of  scholars  whose 
works  are  lost  and  has  edited  two  Greek  text-books  used 
in  our  schools.  He  was  educated  especially  for  the  law, 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  147 

and  has  a  very  high  reputation  as  counsel,  though  he 
does  not  plead.  He  has  written  two  law  books,  both 
often-quoted  authorities,  '  Citizenship  and  Naturaliza- 
tion '  and  '  Corporations.'  He  understands  a- 
dozen  languages,  and  last  fall  I  heard  him  make  speeches 
in  German,  French,  Italian,  and  English.  He  never 
fought  or  saw  a  prize  fight,  but  he  is  a  member  of 
half-a-dozen  learned  societies  and  has  several  degrees 
conferred  by  Universities  on  famous  scholars.  He  is  an 
amateur  athlete,  a  hard  and  quick  hitter,  and  he  has 
knocked  down  many  a  man  in  the  ward  caucuses  when 
some  faction  attempted  to  make  a  row.  But  no  man 
ever  hit  him  back.  He  has  been  a  little  gay  with 
women,  and  has  spent  lots  of  money  on  them  and  on  the 
toys  of  his  district.  No  one  likes  fast  society  and  a  fast 
horse  better  than  he  does ;  no  one  can  make  anight  with 
the  boys  such  a  memory  as  he  can ;  but  he  is  equally 
fond  of  quiet  and  of  a  book.  He  plays  his  political  ex- 
citement and  free  living  against  his  books  and  studies, 
and  keeps  in  sound  health  by  the  see-saw.  His  political 
enemies  and  the  public  generally  shut  their  eyes  to  all 
but  the  one  side  of  his  character,  because  he  is  not  a 
hypocrite,  a  liar,  or  a  sneak.  If  he  were  all  three,  he 
would  be  Jauded  to  the  skies  as  a  saint  in  lawn  by  the 
very  men  who  now  denounce  him  as  a  devil,  on  the 
same  state  of  facts  and  without  his  making  the  slightest 
change  in  his  life." 

Grey  was  genuinely  astonished  and  showed  it  by  his 
confusion  and  color. 

"  Always  copper  what  you  see  in  a  newspaper,"  Dick 
adds,  somewhat  ashamed  of  his  heat.  "It  is  sure  to  be 
either  a  whole  lie  or  part  of  a  lie,  according  as  to 
whether  it  concerns  an  opponent  or  a  friend," 


148  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

"  I  want  to  see  you  alone,"  Smith  says  to  Mubelle, 
after  dinner.  "  It's  a  matter  of  importance.  Won't 
you  come  to  my  room  after  they  go  to  bed  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  see  you,"  she  replies.     "  I  will  come." 

It  is  eleven  o'clock  when  she  steps  out  of  the  French 
window  that  opens  from  her  room  onto  the  veranda  and 
enters  the  next  one.  It  would  have  been  just  as  easy  to 
pass  through  the  door  connecting  the  two  rooms  had 
she  felt  inclined  to  draw  the  bolt ;  but  she  did  not.  It 
represented  a  principle. 

"  I  have  a  letter  from  Jane  which  I  want  you  to 
read." 

He  draws  an  easy-chair  for  her  to  the  table,  and 
places  the  lamp  where  the  light  will  fall  comfortably.  She 
reads  it  through  slowly,  lays  it  down,  and  looks  at  him. 

"  It  is  more  than  appears  on  the  surface,"  he  says, 
slowly.  "  Ostensibly  it  is  merely  a  notification  that  she 
has  sued  for  a  divorce  against  Greene,  having  secured 
sufficient  evidence  at  Long  Branch;  and  an  appeal 
to  me  to  live  with  her  and  give  her  that  position  before 
the  world  to  which  she  thinks  she  has  a  right." 

Mabelle  looks  him  straight  in  the  eyes.  "  Why  don't 
you  do  it?  " 

"  I  could  not  do  it,  if  she  were  the  only  woman  left 
in  the  world.  I  do  not  hate  her  or  even  dislike  her,  per- 
sonally ;  but  she  represents  a  thought  that  has  grown 
so  repugnant  to  me  during  the  past  few  weeks  that  I 
am  afraid  to  meet  her,  even  casually,  lest  I  should  say 
something  harsh.  Rather  than  live  in  the  same  house 
with  her  for  twenty-four  hours,  I  would  leave  the 
country." 

"  And  that  thought  is  what  ?  " 

"  That  I  have  two  wives.     You  may  hardly  credit  it, 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  149 

Mab,  bat  it  lias  become  a  regular  nightmare.  I  cannot 
offer  any  excuses  for  the  past,  but  there  is  something 
worth  slight  consideration  in  the  fact  that,  until  the 
past  two  years,  I  have  not  really  had  a  wife,  in  the  true 
meaning  of  the  word— one  to  whom  I  could  go  in  trouble 
to  receive  and  in  happiness  to  give.  The  few  months 
I  lived  with  her  she  was  only  an  unformed  child.  I  am 
just  learning  what  wife  means.  Our  close  companion- 
ship for  two  years,  the  union  of  our  thoughts  and 
sympathies  in  a  thousand  ways,  the  steady  increase  of 
our  mutual  interdependence,  the  rapidly  growing  soli- 
darity of  our  interests,  make  a  relationship  that  is 
dear  to  me,  and  might  be  to  you  if  you  could  feel  the 
same  way.  It  is  the  marital  or  conjugal  sentiment  that 
flows  from  a  blending  of  two  lives,  in  which  each  has  a 
separate  and  individual  part  that  is  subordinate  to  one 
object.  To  bring  a  third  person  into  harmony  with  such 
a  relationship  is  as  impossible  as  it  is  to  find  a  proper 
place  for  an  extra  arm  or  leg  or  ear.  To  have  the  same 
relations  exist  independently  and  at  the  same  time 
between  one  man  and  two  separate  women,  so  that  it 
will  exist  here  between  him  and  one  woman,  and  there 
between  him  and  another  woman,  is  as  impossible  as  it 
is  to  think  two  separate  thoughts  at  the  same  instant." 

"  Go  on,"  she  says,  as  he  stops.  "  I  am  interested.  I 
never  thought  you  would  care  particularly  to  have  a 
wife." 

"  This  idea  of  a  wife,  this  conjugal  sentiment,  has 
become  very  precious  to  me,  Mab ;  how  precious  I  only 
realized  when  a  danger  threatened  it.  Another  wife 
would  destroy  it  utterly  and  completely.  Why  should 
it  be  destroyed  ?  At  the  very  best  to  rebuild  it  slowly, 
taking  years.  It  is  the  strongest  force  that  governs  per- 


150  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

sonal  relations.  There  is  nothing  of  equal  value  to  take 
its  place,  and  its  growth  in  any  event  is  exceedingly 
slow.  Jane,  in  eveiy  form  and  shape  that  any  thought  of 
her  can  enter  my  mind,  represents  the  destruction  of  the 
most  powerful  sentiment  I  ever  felt,  or  ever  can  feel ; 
the  source  of  the  most  perfect  happiness  I  ever  enjoyed, 
and  the  fountain-head  from  which  all  other  pleasures 
now  flow.  For  rude  illustrations,  do  I  now  care  for  a 
rare  book  or  MS.  unless  you  prize  it  ?  Am  I  happy  in 
my  boat  unless  you  enjoy  it  with  me  ?  Has  my  horse 
any  attractions  unless  you  are  also  proud  of  him  ?  Do  I 
not  enjoy  a  chat  or  argument,  a  play  or  song,  most 
keenly  when  I  can  catch  your  eye  now  and  then  to 
telegraph  the  way  this  or  that  point  strikes  you  or  me  ? 
Does  not  a  look,  a  glance,  without  words,  carry  your 
thoughts  to  me  ?  Is  it  necessary  half  the  time  for  you  to 
speak  for  me  to  know  your  thought,  if  we  are  alone  ?  Is 
there  or  has  there  ever  been  another  woman  of  whom  I 
could  say  this  ?  Are  we  not  becoming  one,  without 
losing  personal  identity  ? 

"I  mean  from  my  standpoint,  of  course.  It  goes 
without  saying  that  you  can  never  overcome  the  feel- 
ings of  repugnance  engendered  by  those  first  four  years. 
I  am  selfish,  naturally. 

"  But  this  is  the  situation ;  and  here  is  Jane's  letter. 
To  make  the  slightest  compromise  with  her  would  be 
complete  and  utter  mental  ruin,  without  one  compensat- 
ing advantage  for  her  or  myself.  I  should  hate  her 
and  myself  with  such  deadly  hatred  for  ever  after 
that  I  should  kill  both  of  us." 

She  sat  and  listened  to  his  matter-of-fact  talk  without 
understanding  the  pleasure  his  words  gave  her.  She 
objected  to  his  "  love."  He  had  "  loved  "  so  many  other 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  151 

women  that  she  would  have  hated  herself  if  she  had 
inspired  in  him  any  feeling  of  that  kind.  But  this 
was  honor,  respect,  reverence — the  three  sweetest  things 
that  can  be  given  to  a  woman.  If  it  were  love, 
Jupiter's  daughter  was  not  honored  by  it.  The  elder 
Venus,  the  motherless  child  of  Uranus,  blessed  it,  not 
the  Venus  Pandemos. 

"  What  is  behind  it,  Billy  ?  " 

"  She  has  put  her  application  for  divorce  from  Greene 
into  the  hands  of  the  bitterest  enemy  I  have  in  the  world, 
that  fellow  Stryker,  whom  I  defeated  and  threw  out  of 
the  general  committee.  He  will  do  anything  and  go  to 
any  expense  to  injure  me.  He  is  deep  and  clever  and 
without  principle.  She  says  that  Mrs.  Stryker — his 
mother — is  the  'best  friend  she  ever  made  ;  a  noble 
woman,'  you  will  notice,  and  she  is  going  to  Bar  Harbor 
with  their  party.  The  sentence  that  she  will  represent 
me  in  the  yachting  party  to  which  I  was  invited,  is  the 
key.  That  was  Stryker's  idea,  not  hers.  She  is  com- 
pletely under  his  influence,  and  he  will  play  her  for  all 
she  is  worth  to  him.  I  can  see  his  game." 

"  What  will  it  be  ?  How  can  he  injure  you  through 
her?" 

"  When  I  refuse  to  live  with  her,  he  will  bring  an  ac- 
tion for  restoration  of  conjugal  rights." 

"  You  need  not  live  with  her  unless  you  like.  Your 
support  is  all  she  may  lawfully  ask  for." 

"  That  is  true  in  this  state.  There  are  states  where 
she  can  demand  more,  and  where  such  a  suit  would  lie. 
But  an  action  may  be  brought  in  this  state  upon  any 
allegation.  You  can  get  a  footing  in  a  court  upon  an 
aflidavit  that  you  own  the  sun  and  that  I  owe  you  $250  for 
using  its  light.  His  case  will  be  thrown  out  when  issue 


152  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

is  joined,  but  that  result  will  never  be  known  to  the 
public.  It  will  not  interest  any  one,  and  the  fact  will 
not  be  published.  The  action  is  brought  merely  to  drive 
in  a  judicial  peg  on  which  to  hang  columns  of  news- 
paper interviews  and  stories.  Every  possible  trick  and 
device  will  then  be  used  to  blacken  my  character.  A 
portrait  of  the  '  deserted  wife  '  will  appear  in  the  papers, 
and  your  portrait  as  that  of  '  the  siren  '  tempting  me, 
with  columns  of  lies  concerning  my  life.  You  will 
read  it  and  come  to  me  asking  who  that  scoundrel  is, 
and  if  I  know  him.  I  don't  think  I  ever  concealed  a 
wrong  action  or  even  a  wrong  thought  from  you  ;  you 
know  my  very  worst  side " 

"  But  you  have  concealed  the  better,  and  compelled 
me  to  find  it  out."  It  is  a  reproach. 
— "  even  better  than  I  do,  for  I  forget  more  easily." 
He  blushes  at  her  interruption.  "  But  even  you  will 
not  recognize  the  description  as  that  of  any  man  you 
know." 

"  What  will  she  gain  by  it  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  She  will  not  understand  what  she  is  doing. 
She  will  be  led  on  step  by  step,  deceived,  cajoled,  and 
then  thrown  out. 

"  Is  there  no  possible  way  to  save  her  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not." 

How  true  she  rings  when  any  touchstone  is  applied, 
he  thinks,  as  his  eyes  rest  on  her  with  an  admiration  it 
is  perhaps  as  well  she  did  not  see. 

"  She  says :  'It  is  as  you  told  me  concerning  the 
Indiana  divorce.  It  is  merely  a  piece  of  waste  paper. 
You  cannot  let  that  come  between  us,  for  it  is  illegal.' 
So  you  told  her  about  that  ?  " 

"  Yes,  at  Watertown.     You  can  see  her  purpose  still 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  153 

more  clearly  from  that  sentence.  She  has  had  a  talk 
with  Stryker  about  it — not  in  relation  to  her  divorce 
from  Greene,  for  the  divorce  is  not  affected  by  it  in  any 
way,  but  to  see  how  it  affects  her  contemplated  suit 
against  me." 

"  And  you  want  to  know  what  to  do  ?  " 

"  Yes.     I  am  gravelled." 

"  Our  marriage  is  really  a  thing  of  the  past  and  need 
not  enter  into  the  consideration.  She  would  merely  re- 
quire you  to  send  your  niece  away,  and  have  another 
guardian  appointed.  That  is  not  much.  To  prefer  me, 
as  I  am  and  as  we  are,  is  not  a  wise  choice,  Billy.  You 
give  up  too  much  and  get  nothing.  Be  sure  of  your 
mind." 

"  That  means  you  can  help  me.  My  mind  is  made  up. 
So  long  as  I  can  keep  you  as  my  companion  and  friend 
— whether  as  husband  and  wife,  or  as  uncle  and  niece — 
I  am  ready  and  willing  to  sacrifice  anything  that  stands 
in  the  way,  and  I  shall  never  regret  it  while  I  live." 

ft  Do  3rou  know,  now,  Billy,  why  you  have  sacrificed 
those — other  women  for  the  past  two  years  ?  Was  it, 
do  you  still  think,  because  you  were  not  tempted?  " 

"Yes,  I  was  right  enough  in  that,"  he  replies  simply. 
"But  I  see  now  that,  once  under  this  conjugal  influence, 
there  could  be  no  temptation.  I  never  could  be  tempted, 
so  it  is  no  merit,  when  once  I  had  a  real  wife  and  I  be- 
gan to  live  this  life  of  two  in  one,  any  more  than  I  could 
be  tempted  to  go  back  to  my  jackets  and  knickerbockers 
after  wearing  a  coat  and  long  trousers." 

u  And  having  put  them  aside,  you  now  put  aside  your 
beautiful,  lawful  wife — for  me,  a  slender  slip  of  a  girl  ? 
Just  for  me  ?  Just  to  have  me  by  you  ?  Just  to  have 
our  lives  grow  together  in  one  ?  For  nothing  else,  only 
thai  ''" 


154  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

She  insists  upon  putting  the  situation  in  that  way. 

There  is  a  glow  at  her  heart,  a  warmth  felt  even  on 
her  face,  that  is  not  merely  a  gratification  of  her  pride. 
A  happiness — strange  and  delicious — such  as  she  had 
never  before  imagined  could  exist,  takes  possession  of  her. 
The  slight  dream  of  love  with  Dick,  so  quickly  over,  had 
not  even  touched  this  chord,  which  seem  to  fill  soul  and 
mind  with  the  sweetest  melody.  An  archer  stands  be- 
side the  daughter  of  Uranus  as  well  as  beside  the  daugh- 
ter of  Jupiter,  though  Mabelle  knows  it  not. 

"  Yes,"  he  replies,  half  sadly.  "  To  win  your  esteem, 
to  secure  your  respect,  to  feel  that  you  did  not  con- 
demn me,  to  have  you  lay  your  hand  in  mine  as  Frank 
does,  to  be  friends  sharing  honor  equally  and  not  in  dif- 
ferent measures,  to  be  companions  sharing  joy  and  sor- 
row, pleasure  and  pain,  as  two  persons  with  one  life,  I 
would  do  anything  that  was  required.  It  gives  me 
pleasure  to  do  what  opportunity  offers,  even  when  I  have 
no  hope." 

He  is  sitting  in  a  rocker,  half  turned  from  her,  and 
looking  into  the  empty  grate,  not  at  her.  There  is  si- 
lence for  a  moment.  The  next  she  is  on  his  lap,  her 
face  hidden  on  his  breast,  her  arm  around  him.  His 
arms  close  gently  around  her,  and  he  waits,  for  he  has 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  tears  on  her  cheeks. 

"What  is  it,  my  poor  Mab?"  he  asks  presently, 
when  he  thinks  the  rain  has  ceased.  "  Have  I  hurt  you  ? 
But — you  come  to  me  for  comfort."  There  is  a  ring  of 
pride,  of  delight  in  his  voice  that  finds  an  echo  in  her. 

"To  whom  else,  Billy?"  She  raises  her  face,  never 
so  lovely  as  the  tears  have  made  it.  "  Never,  never  say 
such  words  to  me  again.  They  hurt  me.  They  are  not 
true,  Frank  does  not  honor  you,  respect  you,  esteem 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  155 

you  more  than  I  do.  There  is  no  man  living  whom  I 
honor  so  much.  I  do  not  feel  as  you  think.  All  that 
past,  when  I  was  a  child,  is  dead  and  forgotten.  It  was 
another  life.  This  is  a  new  life — the  woman's  life — 
that  I  have  just  begun  to  live.  Do  not  rake  up  the 
ashes  of  that  old  existence.  It  is  in  its  grave,  and  let  it 
pass  into  nothingness  and  oblivion.  You  honor  me  too 
much,  for  I  am  weak.  If  you  would  but  give  me  my 
just  and  proper  regard,  the  balance  would  still  be  un- 
equal; but  on  my  side,  not  yours.  I  cannot — let  her — 
have  you  now,  Billy.  I  cannot."  Her  face  is  burning, 
and  she  hides  it. 

"  Is  this  possible !  Do  you  mean  it,  Mab  ?  "  He  is 
astonished,  and  cannot  control  his  emotion  as  Hope 
comes.  Tears  are  in  his  eyes,  as  he  adds,  "  Do  not  say 
it  to  please  me." 

Fear,  Hope's  twin  sister,  is  there  also. 

"  Of  course,  I  mean  it." 

She  does  not  raise  her  head.  He  does  not  understand 
the  surrender — of  which  even  she  is  not  fully  conscious 
— and  does  not  mean  so  much  by  his  question  as  she 
does  by  the  answer. 

"  Do  you  not  see,"  she  continues,  "  how  hard  it  is  for 
me  to  say  this  ?  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  give  you  to 
Jane  ;  but  I  cannot  now.  I  do  not  want  to  leave  you, 
if  I  can  help  it,  and  I  will  fight,  if  necessary,  to  keep 
by  your  side." 

"  Thanks  unto  Thee,  Zeus-pitar,  he  murmurs.  "  Mab, 
look  up  at  me!  I  want  to  see  your  face.  Never 
have  I  been  so  happy  before.  This  is  the  sweetest 
moment  of  my  life.  Can  you  not  share  it  just  a  little 
with  me?" 

But  she  will  not  look  into  his  face,  or  lift  the  lids  that 


156  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

veil  her  eyes.  They  hide  her  secret.  "  I  do  share  it 
with  you,"  she  whispers,  shyly. 

"  I  feel  li|j;e  going  to  the  top  of  Storm  King  and 
building  a  big  bonfire.  What  a  birthday  gift  I  have  re- 
ceived from  you !  Is  it  really  true  or  am  I  dreaming?" 

"  It  is  getting  very  late,"  she  says,  irrelevantly.  She 
has  lost  her  self-possession — and  she  is  afraid. 

"  And  you  are  tired,  and  have  something  to  tell  me  ? 
What  is  it  ?  ?: 

"  Let  us  finish  with  Jane  first.  I  think  I  can  conquer 
her.  All  I  want  to  know  is  that  you  do  not  care  for  her 
or  want  her.  I  could  have  sent  her  flying  the  first  time 
I  met  her  if  I  had  known  you  did  not  wish  to  keep  her." 

"  To  know  that  she  has  no  claim  on  me  or  I  on  her, 
to  bid  her  good-bye  forever,  would  lift  the  heaviest  load 
from  my  shoulders  that  they  ever  bore,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  one  you  have  this  moment  lifted." 

"  Then  bid  her  good-bye  now." 

"•  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  That  she  will  never  be  more  your  wife  than  she  is  at 
the  present  moment." 

"  You  do  not  speak  with  your  customary  lucidity 
and  precision,  most  excellent  Diotima.  You  deal  in 
riddles  and  dark  sayings,  like  the  wise  Latona." 

"  Never  mind.  I  can't  tell  you  now  what  I  shall  do 
Leave  her  to  me  in  perfect  confidence.  She  shall  not 
have  you — not  one  kiss.  But  write  her  a  kind  reply  to- 
morrow.  Explain  your  position,  the  necessity  that  action 
should  not  be  hasty,  that  I  am  your  niece ;  but  do  not 
be  decided.  Leave  the  question  open  for  negotiation.  I 
must  have  time,  and  she  must  not  be  driven  into  active 
measures  until  I  am  ready  to  meet  her  and  armed  in 
mail.  Now  for  my  news.  I  had  a  letter  from  Fanny  to- 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  157 

day,  saying  that  Jane  was  going  to  Bar  Harbor  and  on 
a  yacht  cruise ;  that  she  did  not  like  Jane's  new  friends, 
and  would  not  go  with  her  ;  and  that  if  we  had  no  guests, 
it  would  give  her  the  greatest  possible  pleasure  to  come 
here  for  two  or  three  days,  as  she  would  be  very  lonesome 
all  by  herself.  I  like  her.  Shall  I  ask  her  to  come  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  You  are  queen  regnant.  Frank  is  coining 
next  week,  but  that  is  all  right.  I  think  he  will  bring 
her  pardon  from  the  Governor.  He  is  in  Albany,  now, 
trying  to  get  it." 

"  Can  the  Governor  pardon  before  conviction." 

"  Yes.     What  is  an  amnesty  ?  " 

"  What  are  the  chances  ?  " 

"  Excellent.  I  have  brought  strong  pressure  upon  the 
Governor  to  consider  the  case  carefully  on  its  merits. 
He  is  a  lawyer,  and  that  is  all  that  is  needed.  The 
power  is  given  him  in  order  to  exercise  clemency  to  the 
guilty,  as  well  as  to  pardon  the  innocent." 

"  I  shall  sleep  happier  for  that.  Let  us  hope  he  brings 
the  pardon  with  him.  But  before  I  go,  Billy,  I  want  to 
ask  you  for  $2000  for  a  special  purpose.  Can  you  let 
me  have  it  conveniently  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  It  is  your  own  money,  and  you  are  old 
enough  and  wise  enough  to  spend  it  without  any 
interference  from  me.  You  need  riot  wait  till  you  are 
twenty-one  before  drawing  on  me  at  your  pleasure.  But 
I  thought  you  had  a  fat  balance  in  the  bank." 

"  It  is  getting  down  low,  and  I  may  need  a  large 
sum,  suddenly." 

"  You  are  sure  it  is  wise  expenditure  ?  You  cannot 
trust  me  with  your  intention  ?"  he  says,  a  little  wist- 
fully. 

"  It's  a  little  speculation,  Billy,  by  which  I  hope  to  get 


158  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

a  happiness  I  have  never  had.  To  tell  you  now  would 
rob  me  of  the  pleasure  of  surprising  you  with  something 
I  know  you  will  like.  I  am  spending  it  all  for  myself, 
selfishly,  which  is  proof  that  it  is  well  and  wisely  spent.'' 

"  I  don't  believe  you,"  he  replies.  "  You  are  going  to 
waste  it  on  me,  and  then  tell  me  that  husband  and  wife 
are  one." 

"  Well  ?  "  She  smiles  right  into  his  eyes.  "  Would 
it  be  such  a  dreadful  thing  to  say  to  you  if  it  were 
true  ?  But,  really,  Billy,  true  as  true,  hopimaydiftisnt, 
this  is  all  to  get  something  for  myself  alone,  something 
which  will  make  me  a  very  happy  woman  to  get  and  a 
very  unhappy  woman  to  lose.  But  I  am  not  going  to  tell 
you  any  more  until  I  succeed  or  fail.  Now  I  am  going  to 
kiss  you — though  it  is  rather  an  infliction  for  you — and 
bid  you  good  night." 

An  infliction  !  He  is  afraid  to  speak  lest  he  should 
frighten  her  and  lose  this  delicious  sweethearting. 

He  follows  her  to  the  window.  She  turns  and  gives 
him  both  her  hands. 

"Remember,  the  past  is  dead  and  to  be  forgotten. 
This  is  our  new  life."  She  looks  at  him,  but  some  of 
the  old  frankness  is  gone.  There  is  a  new  shyness  that 
sits  well  on'  her. 

He  holds  her  hands.  "  I  do  not  deserve  such  hap- 
piness as  you  have  given  me,  but  I  will  try  to." 

"  You  deserve  all  and  more  than  I  can  give  you. 
Have  more  confidence — and,  please  let  me  go,  Billy." 
There  had  been  the  faintest  motion  of  drawing  her  to 
him. 

He  releases  her  hands,  which  he  has  not  held  tightly, 
and  she  passes  through  the  window,  but  turns  back 
holding  the  panels  so  that  only  her  face  may  be  inside. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.'  159 

"  Go  right  to  bed.  Remember  that  we  must  start  by 
eight  o'clock  this  morning  to  take  Mrs.  Hart  to  the 
train.  Good  night,  again." 

But  he  does  not  go  to  bed.  He  sits  for  an  hour, 
dreaming.  How  Mabelle  can  get  rid  of  Jane  puzzles 
him.  He  knows  that  the  money  is  not  to  buy  her  off. 
He  would  not  do  that,  if  it  only  cost  one  penny ;  and 
Mabelle  certainly  would  not.  Right  is  right  to  men  like 
him,  and  he  goes  over  each  phase  of  the  situation  and 
the  law  bearing  on  it.  "  She  must  have  some  woman's 
way  of  getting  at  it,"  he  says  aloud,  "  for  certainly  it  is 
the  law." 


160  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Lord  will  root  up  the  house  of  the  proud  ; 
But  he  will  establish  the  border  of  the  widow. 

Prov.  xv.  15. 

IT  is  three  weeks  later.  Frank  has  come  and  gone,  a 
full  and  free  pardon  has  been  granted  Fanny,  and  she 
and  Mabelle  are  on  the  veranda,  alone,  having  "  a  good 
talk." 

"  It  has  been  shameful,  disgraceful,  dear,  the  way  you, 
a  married  woman,  have  been  flirting  with  that  man  dur- 
ing the  past  week.  Not  that  being  married  really 
makes  any  difference,  but  it  did  make  a  great  difference 
some  years  ago,  and  we  still  say  it  through  force  of 
habit." 

Fanny  colors  beautifully.  "I  haven't.  You  are  not 
fair." 

"  Then  you  are  in  earnest  ?  He  is  '  all  broke  up,'  as 
Billy  would  say.  He  would  have  let  work  and  every- 
thing else  go  to  the  dogs  if  I  had  said  fe  stay.'  Never 
mind ;  he  will  be  back  again  by  October,  and  you  and 
he  shall  have  one  another  all  to  yourselves." 

"  I  will  have  to  go  back  before  then."  The  tone  is 
full  of  regret. 

"  You  will  go  back  to  Tipton  about  October  15,  and 
not  one  day  before.  When  you  go,  your  name  will  be 
Brooks.  Have  you  settled  upon  the  date  of  your  mar- 
riage ?  " 


IT  18  THE  LAW.  161 

"  That's  nonsense.  You  know  there's  nothing  of  the 
kind  been  thought  of." 

"  My  dear,  don't  run  away  from  the  truth.  There's 
nothing  so  dangerous  as  these  first  loves — especially 
with  women.  Now,  Frank  was  yours.  He  has  been 
digging  away  so  hard  at  his  work  since  then  that  he  has 
never  had  another.  He  told  me  so  last  year.  When 
you  meet  again,  you  cannot  help  but  rush  into  one 
another's  arms.  You  don't  intend  to,  but  the  mischief 
is  done  before  you  know  it.  If  each  of  you  had  married 
again,  it  would  be  much  the  same — the  first  week.  But, 
as  he  never  had  another  love,  the  first  impulse  contin- 
ues. You  must  marry  him,," 

"  But  he  may  not  want  to  marry  me."  Her  face  is 
crimson.  "  You  forget,  Mabelle,  that  I  cannot  re- 
marry with  a  husband  living ;  I  am  a  married  woman, 
the  law  says,  but  I  have  no  husband  with  whom  I  may 
lawfully  live.  I  am  a  married  woman  and  sentenced  to 
celibacy." 

"  My  dear,  there  never  was  a  law  that  could  not  be 
circumvented,  and  you  may  trust  Frank  and  Billy  to 
settle  all  that  without  your  worrying." 

"  I  should  not  feel  it  right  to  marry  again  while  Mr. 
Robinson  is  alive." 

"  Did  you  love  him,  dear  ?  " 

"  No,  I  married  him  for  a  home.  I  never  liked  him. 
But  Jane  insisted,  and  everybody  was  on  his  side,  and  I 
was  worn  out  with  work.  There  was  no  one  else  to  marry. 
In  the  country, women  do  not  have  the  same  chances  they 
have  in  the  city.  There  are  only  two  or  three,  at  the 
most,  they  can  marry,  and  it  is  one  of  them  or  nobody." 

"  Did  he  treat  you  well  ?  " 

"  He  was  kind,  according  to  his  lights.     But  his  will 


162  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

was  law.  I  was  of  less  consequence  than  his  dog,  for  I 
had  to  obey  and  the  dog  sometimes  didn't.  From  the 
day  I  was  married  until  the  divorce,  I  never  had  one 
penny  to  spend  for  myself.  I  had  to  keep  an  account  of 
every  cent  he  handed  me,  and  of  what  was  done  with  it. 
I  could  only  buy  what  he  told  me  to  buy.  I  had  to 
explain  what  I  wanted  the  money  for,  before  I  received 
it,  and  to  return  any  overplus.  I  could  not  buy  myself 
a  yard  of  tape  or  a  card  of  buttons  without  explaining 
beforehand  why  I  needed  them.  And  I  didn't  always 
get  the  money.  It  was  frightfully  galling,  for  he  took 
my  own  money  too,  the  money  I  earned  teaching  music. 
He  is  very  well  off.  He  saves  over  -13,000  a  year." 

"  Why,  that  was  slavery  ;  bondage  !  " 

"  It  was  .what  all  wives  have  to  submit  to  where  I 
lived.  I  was  no  better  than  they." 

"  How  could  you  be  reconciled  to  him,  or  dream  of 
going  back  to  such  misery  ?  " 

"  Because,  dear,  it  vindicated  my  honor.  His  divorce 
had  put  a  stain  on  me  that  was  killing  me.  No  one  spoke 
to  me.  I  was  put  out  of  the  congregation.  When  my 
innocence  was  shown,  every  one  said  it  was  my  duty  to 
re-marry  him,  to  prove  that  I  was  really  innocent." 

"  Thank  goodness,  you  are  free  at  last  from  those 
narrow-brained  beasts  of  the  field!  I  loathe  the  '  honest 
countryman,'  and  shiver  when  I  meet  one  on  the  road. 
Billy  says,  and  I  believe  him,  that  there  never  yet  was 
one  who  was  not  a  thief  at  heart,  a  brute  by  choice  ;  that 
honest  men  and  decent  men  are  made  by  the  training  of 
cities  and  towns  ;  and  there's  truth  in  his  argument.  The 
dwellers  with  the  cave  bears  were  brutes,  thieves,  mur- 
derers. The  first  small  community  was  a  step  forward, 
for  honesty  and  morality  were  born.  The  more  complex 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  163 

the  interests  of  the  community,  the  stronger  the  hon- 
esty, the  higher  the  morality.  The  highest  honesty  and 
morality  can  only  be  found  in  the  most  complex  com- 
munities— the  cities.  The  lower  forms  are  in  the  'coun- 
try deestricts.'  Every  scamp  in  our  cities  was  educated 
in  villainy  in  some  little  village,  and  finding  his  local 
field  too  narrow,  emigrated.  Rich  or  poor,  inside  or 
outside  the  law,  every  one  started  in  his  career  in 
a  country  village  and  came  to  the  city  because  city 
people  are  more  innocent,  more  honest,  more  moral, 
and  more  easily  duped  than  country  people.*  Get 
Billy  started  on  that  subject,  some  time.  It  will  amuse 
you,  for  he  has  the  pedigree  of  our  scamps  in  New  York 
at  his  fingers'  ends." 

"  Are  you  not  too  hard  on  the  countryman.  I  have 
known  some  nice  men  in  the  country." 

"  Did  you  ever  meet  any  like  Billy  or  Frank  or  Mr. 
Hart  or  Dick  Jones  ?  Mr.  Hart  is  a  fair  sample  of  hus- 
bands educated  in  the  city.  His  salary  is  $2,500  per  year. 
He  hands  over  §2,200  to  his  wife  and  keeps  $300.  She 
has  never  had  to  ask  him  for  a  cent  since  they  were 
married.  She  rules  the  house  as  he  rules  his  department. 
He  no  more  dreams  of  interference  with  her  plans  or  ex- 
penditures than  she  does  with  his.  Many  men  treat  their 
wives  differently,  but  it  is  because  they  have  the  country 
training  and  the  country  instinct  of  brutality.  What 
makes  Billy  or  Frank  any  different  from  Robinson  ? 
Their  city  training  and  nothing  else.  The  country 
training  cannot  make  a  gentleman.  The  best  it  can  do 
is  to  make  a  clodhopper  and  a  brute.  Your  k  nice'  men 
were  made  '  nice  '  by  a  touch  of  city  training." 

*  A  better  illustration  would  be  our  courtesans.  Not  one  in  a  thousand 
is  city  born  and  city  bred.  By  and  large,  all  vile  women  in  the  cities 
come  from  the  country. 


164  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

Fanny  smiles  at  her  heat.  "  Did  you  ever  meet  a 
real  countryman  and  study  him?"  she  asks. 

"  Yes  I  did.  There  was  one  here  the  week  before  you 
came.  He  pretended  to  be  a  New  Yorker,  but  the  pre- 
tence would  not  deceive  a  child.  If  ever  the  word  scamp 
was  written  on  a  man's  face  it  was  on  his.  Wait  a  mo- 
ment, I  have  a  photograph  of  him  which  his  wife  showed 
me,  just  as  they  were  going,  and  I  kept  it  accidentally." 

She  steps  into  her  room  and  returns  in  less  than  a 
minute. 

"Look  at  that  face.  ,1  had  a  better  view  of  him,  be- 
cause his  whiskers  were  shaved  off  when  he  was  here." 

Fanny  takes  the  photograph,  glances  at  it,  and  ex- 
claims, "  Why,  this  is  Robert !  " 

"Do  you  know  him?  "  Mabelle  asks  in  astonishment. 

"  Why,  certainly !  It  is  Jane's  husband,  Robert 
Greene." 

She  turns  the  photograph  over  and  shows  the  print- 
ing on  the  back,  "Richard  Courtright,  photographer, 
Watertown,  N.  Y." 

"  I  remember  when  he  went  to  Watertown  and  had  a 
dozen  made.  It  was  in  June,  last  summer.  He  gave 
me  one." 

There  is  no  chance  that  it  could  be  somebody  who 
looks  like  him  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  be  mistaken.  But  did  you  say  he  was 
here  with  his  wife  ?  " 

Mabelle  does  not  answer.  She  walks  rapidly  around 
the  veranda  to  where  her  husband  is  lying  in  a  ham- 
mock, half  asleep. 

He  opens  his  eyes. 

"Look  at  this  photograph."     Her  hand  trembles. 

He  looks  at  it  closely,  and  starts  up.  "  Where  did 
you  get  it  ?  It's  that  fellow  Greene." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  165 

"  Study  it." 

He  does.  A  puzzled  look  comes  over  his  face.  "  I 
have  seen  him  somewhere,"  he  says.  "  The  eyes  are 
familiar." 

"'I  know  that  I  have  seen  his  eyes  somewhere." 
She  merely  repeats  his  own  words  to  her  concerning 
Grey. 

"  By  Herakles,  but  I  believe  you  are  right.  Did  you 
notice  the  ring  on  the  first  finger  of  the  left  hand,  the 
same  as  Grey's  ?  How  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"•Helen  showed  it  to  me  as  the  photograph  of  her 
husband,  Robert  Grey,  before  he  sacrificed  his  whis- 
kers. Fanny  has  recognized  it  as  one  which  Jane's 
husband,  Robert  Greene,  had  taken  in  Watertown,  last 
June.  Look  at  the  imprint." 

He  does,  and  goes  back  with  her  to  Fanny. 

"  Fanny,  won't  you  tell  Billy  all  about  Jane  meeting 
her  husband  at  Long  Branch,  and  describe  the  woman  ?  " 

While  Fanny  is  doing  it,  Mabelle  goes  downstairs. 
When  she  returns,  Smith  is  cross-questioning  the  wit- 
ness. 

"Was  this  the  woman?"  Mabelle  asks,  showing  a 
photograph  of  Helen  Brown. 

"  Yes.     What  does  it  all  mean  ?  " 

'  That  Robert  Greene  is  a  bigamist.  He  has  married 
a  friend  of  ours.  Damn  his  impudence !  "  Smith  cries 
in  sudden  passion.  "  To  think  that  he  was  here  for  a 
week.  His  cheek  is  monumental.  I  say,  boy  !  What's 
his  name?  Peter,  saddle  the  mare  immediately.  Give 
her  the  plain  bridle.  He  put  the  No.  6  curb  on  that 
cow  the  last  time  he  saddled  her." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Judge  Barnes  of  the  Supreme  Court,  is  at  the  hotel. 


166  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

I  am  going  to  him  to  get  a  warrant  for  Greene's  arrest. 
I  will  then  go  to  the  village  and  telegraph  to  the  sheriff 
of  Green  Co. — how  appropriate  the  names  are — to  grab 
him.  He  is  at  the  Kaaterskill,  is  he  not?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  will  a  Supreme  Court  judge  interfere  in 
such  a  case  ?  " 

"  My  dear  child,  six  years  ago  a  man  *  living  in  the  city 
of  New  York  said  that  a  man  f  living  in  Ohio  was  a  liar  ; 
and  his  assertion  was  the  simple  truth.  The  man  was 
the  worst  liar  known  in  history.  He  had  twice  been 
convicted  of  perjury,  by  a  committee  of  his  own  party 
and  his  intimate  friends  in  Congress.  Now,  to  call  a  man 
a  liar,  whether  he  is  or  not,  is  conduct  calculated  to  pro- 
voke a  breach  of  the  peace ;  but  there  was  not  the  slight- 
est reason  for  supposing  that  any  breach  of  the  peace 
would  or  could  take  place  between  two  men  living  500 
miles  apart,  and  if  it  should  happen  it  would  be  merely 
a  case  for  a  $5  fine.  Yet  Chief  Justice  Noah  Davis  not 
only  issued  a  warrant  for  that  man's  arrest,  but  he  opened 
a  court  as  a  police-magistrate  *  *  *  *  $,  There 
was  no  other  charge  or  pretence  of  charge  than  that 
one  man  had  called  another  man  a  liar.  §  If  the  chief 

X 

*  Kenward  Philp. 

t  James  A.  Garfield. 

t  The  remainder  of  Mr.  Smith's  sentence  was  too  libellous  for  publi- 
cation. 

§  The  Morey  letter  was  written  by  Garfield  and  given  by  the  receiver  to 
Samuel  J.  Tilden.  It  was  a  political  trap,  for  a  different  occasion,  into 
which  Garfield  fell.  It  was  not  necessary  to  use  it  at  that  time,  and  it 
was  saved  by  Mr.  Tilden  for  a  future  emergency.  In  June,  1880,  at  a 
consultation  at  Mr.  Tilden's  house,  he  showed  this  letter  when  one  of 
the  visitors  insisted  that  Garfield  would  be  nominated.  When  the 
visitors  left,  and  Mr.  Tilden  gathered  up  the  papers  to  put  them  back 
into  his  safe,  he  did  not  notice  that  this  letter  was  not  in  its  envelope. 
The  day  the  news  came  that  Garfield  had  been  nominated,  there  was 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  167 

justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  can  interfere  in  a  petty 
police-court  case,  a  subordinate  justice  can  and  will 
interfere  in  a  case  of  felony  where  such  grave  issues 

are  involved or  I'll  know  the  reason  why.     Bring 

her  here,  Peter.  Good-bye.  Don't  wait  dinner  for 
me." 

Smith  returned  in  time  for  dinner.  "  They  left  the 
Kaaterskill  last  night  for  Saratoga,"  he  explains.  "  I 
have  sent  the  warrant  by  special  messenger  to  Inspector 
Brynes  with  a  letter  from  Judge  Barnes  asking  him  to 
send  detectives  after  them,  and  have  enclosed  a  check  for 

the  worse  storm  ever  known  at  Grey  stone,  when  it  could  not  be  found. 
Mr.  Tilden's  intention  had  been  to  print  it  the  next  day  after  the 
nomination,  and  prove  its  genuineness,  "if  the  Lord  delivers  our 
enemies  into  our  hands  by  making  such  a  nomination,"  he  had 
said  in  June.  The  purloiner  waited  until  two  weeks  before  the 
election,  and  then  offered  the  Republicans  a  chance  to  buy  hjin 
off,  but  they  were  not  spending  money  in  that  way.  They  were 
shrewd  enough  to  know  that  its  publication  at  that  late  date  would 
be  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  them.  He  then  took  it  to  the  Demo- 
cratic managers.  They  were  as  shrewd  as  the  Republicans.  They 
knew  that  it  was  against  Mr.  Tilden's  wishes  to  touch  it  then.  So  did 
every  Democratic  editor  in  New  York,  for  they  had  been  promptly 
advised  about  it  the  day  it  was  brought  out.  Mr.  Dana  kept  it  for  24 
hours,  until  he  could  consult  witli  Mr.  Tilden  ;  but  the  others,  who 
had  been  instructed,  rejected  it  peremptorily.  Its  publication  a  few 
days  before  election  would  have  been  a  colossal  blunder.  When  it  ap- 
peared in  a  moribund  penny  paper  without  circulation  or  influence — the 
only  newspaper  that  would  touch  it — it  injured  only  the  Democrats. 
Tilden,  who  had  the  envelope,  refused  to  be  brought  into  the  contro- 
ersy.  There  was  a  reason  connected  with  his  possession  of  it  requiring 
that  the  matter  should  be  handled  in  his  own  way.  There  was  no 
time  before  election  day  for  him  to  prove  its  authenticity  without  violat- 
ing a  promise  he  had  made.  Those  who  held  it  were  left  to  their  own 
resources  by  the  Democrats.  Philp  called  Garfield  a  liar.  Davis, 
Bliss,  and  the  others  jumped  oil  him,  and,  arresting  him  foi  this  lan- 
guage, it  was  sent  out  to  the  country  that  he  had  been  arrested  for 
"  forging"  the  letter.  This  tided  their  chief  over  the  election,  and  the 
case  was  then  dropped. 


168  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

their  expenses.  I  thought  it  best  not  to  have  him  arrest- 
ed until  he  returns  to  New  York,  unless  they  attempt  to 
leave  the  state.  I  remembered  that  she  was  to  spend 
a  week  home  with  her  mother,  and  he  will  go  back  with 
her." 

Dick  Jones  returned  with  him.  He  had  been  in  the 
position  of  an  ass  between  two  bundles  of  hay  ever  since 
the  night  after  the  Fourth.  He  had  had  no  chance  to 
exchange  one  word  in  private  with  Mabelle,  and  beyond 
a  brief  paragraph  in  a  letter  from  her  to  Mrs.  Carter, 
saying  that  she  had  postponed  her  trip  to  Chicago,  he 
understood  nothing  of  any  change  in  her  feelings,  and 
assumed  that  it  had  been  a  necessity  for  her  to  remain  in 
New  York. 

His  aunt  and  he  had  become  open  lovers  without 
consciously  admitting  the  fact  to  themselves.  If  they 
had,  they  tacitly  agreed  not  to  let  it  be  known  to  one 
another  that  such  thoughts  had  come.  There  was  no 
lack  of  opportunity,  and  none  was  unimproved,  at 
Brookside  for  embraces,  kisses,  and  caresses.  These  grow 
by  what  they  feed  upon.  They  are  very  sweet,  and 
both  were  willing  to  gather  the  rosebuds  while  they 
could.  Mrs.  Carter  was  perfectly  content ;  but  Dick 
was  not,  when  left  to  himself — only  when  her  arms  were 
around  him  and  she  was  kissing  and  petting  her  "  boy," 
her  "  son,"  her  "  delight,"  as  she  called  him. 

Between  Helen  and  Mabelle — if  driven  to  a  choice — 
Dick  would  instantly  have  chosen  Helen.  She  was 
Jupiter's  daughter  by  Leda,  his  aunt  because  he  was  the 
child  of  Jupiter's  daughter,  Venus  ;  and  family  ties  are 
strong.  Blood  is  thicker  than  water.  But  he  wanted 
Mabelle.  He  had  never  kissed  her  lips,  he  had  never 
clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  he  was  the  more  strongly 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  169 

attracted  for  that  very  reason.     It  was  a  different  senti- 
ment that  swayed  him. 

He  admired  Mabelle  beyond  measure.  He  considered 
her  figure  perfect ;  her  form  divine — and  he  was  nearer 
the  truth  than  her  own  conception  of  herself.  Even  now 
she  was  a  model  of  that  Asiatic  type  of  beauty  which  bars 
unnecessary  flesh,  and  in  another  year  she  would  be  the 
perfect  Greek  idea.  But  it  was  not  her  perfectly 
rounded  arm,  or  her  transparent  white  satin  skin  that 
drew  him  to  her.  It  was,  in  a  word,  he  would  say, 
"  her  brains  ;  "  but  he  would  be  wrong.  Her  brains  were 
not  phenomenal.  She  was  absolutely  free  from  super- 
stition, from  cant,  from  hypocrisy — and  she  was  the  only 
woman  he  had  ever  met  who  was.  This  was  the 
charm,  and  he  did  not  know  it. 

Mabelle  was  an  honest  woman.  She  had  faults  ;  she 
had  prejudices  regarding  persons  and  things.  But  all 
these  were  as  nothing  to  the  virtue  that  kept  her  intel- 
lect free  to  test  all  abstract  statements  concerning  right 
and  wrong  by  the  laws  of  pure  reason,  that  kept  her 
from  becoming  the  slave  of  Faith,  alias  Credulity,  alias 
Idiocy. 

She  had  never  had  a  lover  until  Dick  came,  yet  she 
had  studied  Love  and  thoroughly  understood  the  origin 
and  scope  of  this  master-passion  of  the  human  race.  A 
free  mind  does  this  quickly — in  ten  minutes  when  the 
way  is  pointed  out.  She  knew  that  it  was  the  conserv- 
ator and  the  preserver  of  mankind,  the  motive  power  of 
all  progress  and  all  advancement,  without  which  the 
wise — who  could  see  no  reason  for  chasing  a  phantom — 
would  follow  the  Preacher  and  turn  from  this  "  delusion 
of  living  where  laughter  is  mad  and  pleasure  is  vain, 
and  praise  the  dead  which  arc  dead  more  than  the  living 


170  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

which  are  yet  alive :  or  esteem  as  better  than  both  he 
that  hath  never  been."  She  knew  that  its  force  was 
exerted  in  a  thousand  ways  through  ideas,  where  it  was 
but  once  exerted  through  individuals.  She  knew  that 
all  its  incomplete  manifestations  in  love  of  self,  or  sex, 
or  country, .or  humanity,  were  but  a  blind  and  mis- 
guided striving  after  that  love  of  Truth — mistakenly 
called  love  of  God — which  alone  brings  perfect  rest 
and  content.  And  yet  she  wished  for  a  lover,  or  rather 
the  wish  awoke  to  conciousness  when  she  saw  one 
coming.  It  was  idle,  she  knew,  to  seek  for  pleasure  in 
one,  for  when  the  wish  was  granted  that  was  the  end. 
It  would  not  be  what  she  wanted.  The  fairy  story  of 
the  prince  who  came  in  the  night,  warning  his  wife 
never  to  light  a  lamp  and  look  at  him,  she  understood ; 
and  she  knew  why  the  prince  vanished  forever  when 
his  wife  disobeyed  and  looked  upon  him.  Love  dies 
with  the  kiss. 

It  was  true  that  those  who  look  on  Love  must  lose 
him,  yet  all  have  found  him  fair  ;  and  she  was  not  to  be 
greatly  blamed  for  willingness  to  gratify  her  curiosity. 
She  might  have  married  Dick  in  Illinois  and  lived  with 
him  in  New  York  for  a  few  months,  but  for  what  had 
happened.  It  would  have  been  lawful,  and  "  without 
law  there  is  no  sin."  She  was  free  by  the  law  to  have 
two  husbands,  and  to  live  with  them  alternately  if  she 
liked — as  free  as  her  husband  was  to  have  two  wives 
and  to  live  with  one  or  both,  as  he  would. 

She  did  not  admire  the  law.  But  it  had  been  forced 
upon  the  state  of  New  York  by  the  religious  sentiment 
which  considered  polygamy  and  polyandry  preferable 
to  divorce.  Who  could  object  to  her  for  taking  the 
freedom  which  the  law  and  religion  granted  to  her? 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  171 

Certainly  not  those  who  had  insisted  upon  giving  it  to 
her,  by  refusing  divorce  and  permitting  re-marriage. 

All  around  her  were  men  living  with  two  or  more 
lawful  wives;  wives  living  with  two  or  more  lawful 
husbands.  She  had  believed  Smith  to  be  living  in  poly- 
gamy, or  worse,  if  there  be  any  worse,  with  other  women. 
The  conjugal  sentiment  which  he  had  described  as  uncon- 
ciously  influencing  his  actions  had  been  stronger  in  her 
than  in  him  —  nothing  can  prevent  its  growth — but  it 
had  been  blistered  and  burned  daily  and  hourly  by  the 
thought  of  those  "  others,"  until  it  had  been  in  a  state 
of  inflammation  that  made  welcome  any  suggestion  for 
relief  from  the  bitter  pain.  The  thought  of  Dick's  lof  e 
was  refreshing  to  her  bruised  mind,  not  because  she  loved 
him,  but  because  it  seemed  true  and  not  false  to  its 
object — her.  Marriage  was  its  corollary.  There  was 
no  one  to  object  to  her  giving  herself  temporarily  to  him, 
as  a  wife,  if  he  desired  it.  Why  should  she  not  ?  Why 
should  any  proper  and  lawful  pleasure  be  denied? 

In  everything  except  the  one,  she  had  found  in  Smith 
all  that  her  heart  craved.  He  was  keen  of  intellect, 
kind  of  heart,  honest  in  word  and  deed,  sympathetic, 
worldly-wise.  But  for  this  black  cloud  between  them 
she  would  have  been  as  happy  in  her  husband  as  one 
can  be  who  has  nothing  left  to  desire — which  is  saying 
little. 

When  Smith  came  to  her  with  the  story  of  lu's  meet- 
ing Jane,  it  gave  her  both  pain  and  pleasure,  for  she  did 
not  quite  comprehend  the  motive  that  impelled  him  to 
tell  her ;  but  when  a  casual  word  from  him  had  reveal- 
ed the  fact  that  her  self-torture  during  the  preceding 
two  years  had  been  all  unnecessary  ;  that  the  black  cloud 
had  been  solely  in  her  imagination,  her  whole  heart 


172  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

went  out  to  him  in  a  pent-up  flood  of  affection  that 
almost  frightened  her  when  she  realized  it.  Dick,  and 
all  thought  of  Dick's  love  so  far  as  it  gave  her  any  satis- 
faction, had  been  washed  out  by  her  husband's  words  at 
the  Casino. 

It  took  her  days  to  realize  that  they  were  true  ;  that 
her  pain  had  been  self-inflicted.  As  she  looked  back 
upon  the  two  years,  recalling  a  thousand  trifling  things 
that  corroborated  him  in  the  strongest  way  and  should 
have  revealed  the  truth,  she  grew  remorseful  and  angry 
with  herself  that  her  prejudice,  when  a  child,  should 
have  blinded  her  as  a  woman  and  a  wife,  or  required  so 
much  evidence  to  remove  it. 

This  feeling  concerned  the  past  alone.  Jane  was  a 
different  .matter.  The  moment  she  knew  that  her  hus- 
band had  been  true  and  faithful  to  her  from  the  time 
she  had  taken  charge  of  their  home  and  assumed  her 
place  in  the  world  as  his  wife,  the  bitterest  hatred  and 
jealousy  of  Jane  had  filled  her  heart.  She  could  not 
bring  herself  to  believe  that  her  husband  did  not  love 
his  first  wife.  She  tortured  herself  in  a  thousand  ways, 
recalling  even  jesting  words,  when  she  had  been  a  thin 
and  scraggy  school-girl,  about  plump  women. 

It  was  her  jealousy  that  resolved  to  put  him  to  the 
test.  It  was  her  jealousy  that  sustained  her  in  every 
temptation  to  reveal  the  truth,  as  the  evidence  was  heap- 
ed upon  her  that  he  cared  for  her  alone  and  nothing  for 
Jane.  It  was  her  jealousy  that  had  kept  the  path  open 
and  easy  for  him  to  be  tempted.  It  was  her  jealousy 
that  had  kept  her  from  dismissing  Dick  peremptorily, 
and  made  her  resolve  that  he  should  be  her  husband  if 
Smith  did  not  pass  through  the  fire  unscathed.  To 
hurt  Smith,  not  to  please  Richard,  would  she  force  her 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  173 

husband  to  share  her  with  another,  or  give  her  up  en- 
tirely. 

Her  discovery  that  Dick  was  clay  of  the  commonest 
kind ;  that  he  could  make  love  to  Mrs.  Carter  and  to  her, 
indifferently,  was  rather  a  relief.  It  certainly  gave  her 
no  pain,  for  she  had  never  cared  for  him.  She  was  asham- 
ed in  her  saner  moments  of  her  jealousy,  and  glad  to 
get  free  from  the  temptation  of  carrying  out  her  ill-con- 
sidered resolution.  She  welcomed  anything  that  raised 
Billy  above  his  fellows,  and  she  knew  he  could  not  be 
so  weak  as  Dick  had  been.  He  might  make  love  to  two 
women;  he  could  not  be  in  love  with  both  :  Dick  was. 

Dick's  last  chance  of  winning  her  for  a  wife  pro 
tempore,  or  even  retaining  her  for  a  friend,  had  been  lost 
forever  the  morning  of  her  visit  to  Brookside.  Her 
jealousy  had  been  almost  obliterated  by  her  husband's 
explanation  when  he  received  Jane's  letter.  It  was  no 
longer  green.  It  had  faded  to  a  pale  yellow. 

Dick  is  resolved  to  know  where  he  stands  with  Ma- 
belle,  and  when  she  is  to  become  his  wife.  Absence  has 
made  his  heart  grow  fonder.  He  is  sick  of  "  love,"  and 
tired,  for  the  time,  of  kisses  that  burn  and  sting.  He 
longs  for  the  milder  uranian  heart-play.  He  is  sure  of 
Ids  aunt's  love.  He  takes  that  as  a  matter  of  course. 
His  marriage  with  Mabelle  will  be  secret,  ad  interim, 
when  "  the  good  man  is  away,  when  he  goes  on  a  long 
journey  " — and  his  aunt  need  not  know  of  it,  if  it  pains 
her,  he  says  to  himself. 

While  Smith  is  writing  a  circumstantial  account  of 
the  discovery  to  Mr.  Brown,  which  includes  a  clear 
statement  of  his  own  marital  trouble,  Dick  finds  the 
opportunity  he  has  been  seeking. 

Mabelle  smiles  at  the  story  of  his  hopes  and  fears,  for 


174  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

she  knows  how  much  is  true  and  how  much  he  imagines 
for  the  moment  to  be  true. 

"  I  have  lived  years,  Dick,"  she  says  kindly  "  since  I 
sat  on  the  stone  wall  and  talked  to  you.  I  told  you  then, 
I  think,  that  I  did  not  love  you  as  you  loved  me,  and 
since  then  I  have  made  a  discovery  that  has  changed 
the  situation  materially." 

"  What  can  change  my  love  for  you  ?  " 

"  The  fact,  Dick,  that  I  have  no  affection  to  give  you. 
I  will  be  frank.  I  thought  you  were  my  first  lover,  and 
I  was  grateful  to  you  as  every  woman  should  be  to  her 
first  lover.  But  I  think,  I  have  hope,  that  some  one 
who  is  a  thousand  times  dearer  to  me  than  you  could 
ever  have  been,  has  loved  me  longer  and  as  faithfully. 
It  is  the  truth,  Dick,  and  I  hope  it  is  not  hard." 

It  is  hard.     He  does  not  take  it  kindly. 

"  Then  you  have  been  amusing  yourself  with  me." 

"  No.  Then  I  had  no  hope.  I  was  quite  as  much  in 
earnest  as  you  were."  She  thinks  of  Mrs.  Carter,  as 
she  says  it.  "I  did  not  deceive  you — at  least  I  tried 
not  to.  I  did  not  know  then  that  I  cared  for  any  one 
else.  It  was  a  surprise  and  a  revelation  when  I  discov- 
ered it.  Don't  you  know  that  you  really  love  Nellie, 
and  only  imagine  that  you  love  me  ?  " 

The  suddenness  of  the  question  confuses  him.  He 
stammers,  and  then  says,  "  I  love  my  aunt  very  dearly, 
of  course  ;  but — " 

"  Stop,"  she  interrupts  gently,  "  don't  say  '  but.'  Do 
not  qualify  it.  You  know  that  you  love  her  and  no  one 
else.  If  you  do  not  know  it,  read  your  own  heart  and 
you  will  learn  it.  Do  not  be  ashamed  to  own  your  mis- 
take to  me  as  I  have  owned  mine  to  you.  It  will  not 
give  me  pain,  but  pleasure  to  know  it.  She  has.  loved 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  175 

you  for  ^ears.  As  a  matter  of  duty — if  your  inclina- 
tions did  not  point  that  way — you  should  be  kind  to 
her  and  not  give  her  pain.  How  much  more  untrue 
you  would  be  when  your  heart  points  to  her — untrue  to 
her  and  to  yourself !  " 

"  I  will  not  deny  that  I  love  my  aunt,"  he  replies, 
"but  it  is  not  as  I  love  you.  I  love  her  as  I  have  loved 
her  all  my  life." 

"  Have  you  not  made  the  discovery  lately  that  the 
love  you  speak  of  is  very  precious  ?  " 

"  How  ?  T  don't  understand."  He  stammers,  and  feels 
guilty. 

"  Did  you  not  feel  jealous  and  angry  at  Billy's  atten- 
tions to  her?  Did  you  not  resent  the  idea  that  he 
should  marry  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  he  admits. 

"  I  understand  better  than  you  imagine,  how  you  feel. 
Would  you  give  her  to  Billy  for  a  wife,  if  I  were  willing 
to  do  what  I  suggested — take  you  for  a  husband  ? 
Answer  truthfully." 

He  is  silent. 

"  Go  home,  like  a  good  boy.  Take  your  aunt  in  your 
arms,  and  ask  her  to  marry  you.  She  will  refuse.  Per- 
sist, and  she  will  consent.  Then  come  to  me  when  you 
are  married  and  I  will  kiss  you — as  many  times  as 
Billy  may  kiss  her. 

'  None,  seeing  us  cloven  in  sunder, 
Will  weep  or  laugh  or  wonder  ; 
Light  love  stands  clear  of  thunder, 
And  safe  from  winds  at  sea.' 

We  have  lost  nothing  and  gained  much  from  our  little 
idyl.  It  will  be  a  pleasant  memory  of  a  pleasant  hour 


176  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

among  woods  and  flowers — with  not  even  the  recollec- 
tion of  a  black  ant  or  tree  frog  to  mar  it." 

"  And  this  is  my  dismissal  ?  " 

He  cannot  help  a  feeling  that  he  is  out  in  the  cold, 
and  the  door  shut  in  his  face. 

"  Don't  call  it  that,"  she  says  kindly.  "  It  is  dismissal 
when  the  game  is  finished,  the  oil  burned  out,  the  play 
over ;  but  that  is  fate.  It  is  the  end  of  all  human  action. 
Ours  has  had  a  happier  ending  than  if  it  had  dragged 
out  to  satiety  and  disgust." 

"  Are  you  love-making  ?  May  I  intrude  ?  "  Smith  has. 
worked  off  his  slight  temper  in  the  letter  and  is  at  ease 
with  the  world. 

"  Come  here  by  me,  Billy." 

He  sits  down,  gingerly,  on  the  hammock.  She  leans 
against  him  and  his  ar.m  passes  around  her  waist.  It  is 
entirely  unconscious,  but  Dick  understands.  It  affords 
food  for  reflection  for  many  a  day. 

*'  I  hope  I  didn't  disturb  you,"  Smith  says.  "  But 
every  one  seems  to  have  paired  off  to-night.  Even  Gyp 
has  a  young  man  from  the  hotel  with  her.  Is  this  ham- 
mock safe  ?  "  The  pressure  of  his  arm  shows  that  he  is 
concerned  for  her  alone. 

"  It  is  one  you  tested." 

"  What  were  you  talking  about  ?  I  have  interrupted 
your  conversation." 

"  No,  it  had  come  to  an  end.  We  were  talking  about 
our  first  loves.  Dick  is  just  coming  to  a  realizing  sense 
of  what  he  came  near  losing,  and  so  am  I.  And  we 
were  comparing  notes.  I  have  promised  to  kiss  him — 
he  did  not  ask  me  to,  but  I  know  he  would  like  to  have 
me — as  many  times  as  you  kiss  his  sweetheart.  I  know 
you  would  like  to." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  177 

"  That's  the  offer  of  the  turkey  and  the  woodchuck. 
Does  it  not  take  a  woman,  Dick,  to  put  an  alternative 
illogically,  so  that  they  will  always  get  the  best  of  one  ? 
Why  don't  you  say  turkey  to  me  ?  " 

"  Well,"  she  says  demurely,  "  Dick  may  kiss  me  as 
many  times  as  his  sweetheart  kisses  you." 

"  That's  an  offer  of  the  woodchuck  and  the  turkey, 
which  I  appreciate.  But  Dick  would  want  more,  for 
one  kiss  from  a  woman  is  worth  ten  to  a  woman.  I  am 
afraid  something  has  come  over  you,  ma  petite,  you 
seem  to  have  lost  your  love  for  logic." 

"  That's  good  for  a  steady  diet ;  but  I  think — do  you 
know — that  it  needs  sweetening — with  a  little  dessert — 
the  love  of  man  for  a  woman.  It's  illogical — and  it 
constantly  has  to  begin  all  over  again — as  one  drinks 
a  cup  of  tea — it's  new  love  and  new  tea — but  it  is 
always  refreshing — particularly  when  poured  from  the 
same  pot — into  the  same  cup.  One  grows  to  like  a 
certain  brew — of  one  as  well  as  the  other." 

"  There  speaks  the  heart  not  the  mind  of  a  woman," 
Smith's  voice  trembles  slightly.  "  If  we  were  perfect  au- 
tomata, logic  would  be  enough.  But  we  are  imperfect 
— afflicted  with  hearts — and  you  have  put  the  proper 
compromise  between  that  and  the  intellect." 

"  Could  any  one  put  points  as  she  puts  them  ?  "  asks 
Dick.  "  Here  she  has  been  preaching  to  me  that  love 
dies  with  the  kiss,  and  this  is  the  very  opposite  senti- 
ment, yet  the  two  statements  don't  conflict,  as  she  words 
them.  It's  sophistry  that  even  old — what  was  his 
name  ?  " 

"  Sophocles  ?  "  Smith  suggests,  with  an  innocence  that 
makes  Mabelle  laugh. 

"  —  that  even  old  Sophocles  would  turn  green  with 

12 


178  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

envy  at  listening  to.  Nellie  and  I  were  talking  about 
love  the  other  night,  and  we  agreed  that  it  was  a  pas- 
sion, like  anger  or  disgust,  without  reason,  or  cause,  or 
philosophy." 

"  Ah  !  it  is  she  whom  I  am  to  kiss.  I  congratulate 
you,  Dick.  But  you  are  both  wrong.  Have  you  not 
4  soaked  with  old  Socrates  ? '  Must  I  quote  Plato  to 
you  ?  Philosophy  is  love  of  wisdom.  No  god  or  wise 
man  desires  wisdom,  for  he  has  it.  The  ignorant  do 
not,  because  ignorance  is  the  lack  of  perception  or 
knowledge  of  the  value  of  wisdom.  Whoever  knows  its 
value  is  wise.  Only  those  love  wisdom  who  are  interme- 
diate— neither  wise  nor  ignorant.  Wisdom  is  the  most 
beautiful  child  of  the  gods,  and  Love,  the  child  of  Pover- 
ty by  Plenty,  the  constant  companion  of  Want,  is 
neither  god  nor  man,  but  intermediate,  always  seeking 
wisdom  to  find  the  beauty  that  he  lacks  himself,  for  he 
is  old  and  wrinkled  and  withered,  as  befits  one  whose 
mother  is  Poverty  and  whose  companion  is  Want.  Love 
is  the  spiritual  head  of  all  intermediates,  in  other  words 
of  philosophers,  and  consequently  of  all  philosophy." 

"  You  can  swim,"  Dick  says  ;  "  I  can't.  That's  over 
my  head.  I  am  willing  to  take  a  great  deal  for  granted 
without  argument.  In  logic  and  law  I  am  like  the  four 
fish  of  different  colors  we  read  about  in  the  Arabian 
K.  of  L.  If  you  say  it  is  logic,  I  say  it  is  logic.  If  you 
say  it  is  the  law,  I  say  it  is  the  law" 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  179 


CHAPTER  XI. 

There  is  a  way  which  seemeth  right  unto  a  man, 
But  the  end  thereof  are  the  ways  of  death. 

Prov.  xiv,  12. 

SMITH  in  his  letter  advised  Brown,  if  he  had  his 
daughter's  address,  to  telegraph  to  her  saying  that  her 
mother's  health  made  a  sea  voyage  necessary,  and  to  re- 
turn immediately,  adding,  as  if  the  consent  were  given 
grudgingly,  that  she  might  bring  her  husband  with  her 
for  the  few  days  she  would  be  at  home.  As  the  detec- 
tives had  been  instructed  to  telegraph  the  address  as 
soon  as  discovered,  he  would  be  informed  of  it  in  a  very 
short  time,  if  he  did  not  have  it. 

As  it  happened,  Brown  did  not  have  the  address  and 
was  compelled  to  wait,  receiving  a  letter  from  his 
daughter  and  the  dispatch  almost  at  the  same  hour. 
His  message  was  made  as  if  in  reply  to  her  letter,  and  the 
pair  returned  to  New  York  immediately  ;  Robert  felici- 
tating himself  with  the  thought  that  his  rich  father-in- 
law's  opposition  was  breaking  down. 

His  reception  by  Brown,  though  it  chilled  him  to  the 
marrow,  did  not  disturb  this  belief.  Sending  his  daugh- 
ter to  her  mother,  Brown  invited  him  into  the  library, 
and  asked  for  a  description  of  the  trip.  This  Robert 
proceeded  to  give  in  his  best  manner,  Brown  listening 
in  silence,  only  no\v  and  then  putting  in  a  brief  question 
as  the  speaker  waited  I'm-  applause. 

According  to  Brown's  instructions,  the  detective  in 


180  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

charge  of  the  case  permitted  Greene  to  precede  him  by- 
ten  minutes.  When  his  card  was  brought  to  Brown, 
the  latter  directed  the  servant  to  show  him  in. 

"This  is  your  prisoner,  Mr.  Jasper,"  Brown  says, 
without  rising. 

Robert  is  facing  him,  his  back  to  the  door,  and  before 
he  can  recover  from  his  surprise  he  has  been  hand- 
cuffed. 

"You  must  really  excuse  the  liberty,"  Mr.  Jasper 
says,  deprecatingly,  "  but  you  are  so  clever  and  so  slip- 
pery, Mr.  Greene,  that  I  must  do  it." 

Mr.  Jasper  likes  his  joke.  He  is  not  one  of  the 
solemn  and  earnest  detectives  of  the  story  books. 

Robert  tries  to  twist  the  handcuffs  off,  hurts  himself 
severely,  and  comes  to  a  realizing  sense  of  the  situation. 

"  Will  you  explain  this  outrage  ? "  he  demands  de- 
fiantly. 

"  By  virtue  of  this  warrant,  Mr.  Greene,  which  is 
signed  by  one  of  the  justices  of  the  Supreme  Court,  you 
are  my  prisoner.  Will  you  come  with  me  quietly  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  will.  Mr.  Brown,  will  you  come  with 
me  ?  I  may  have  to  give  bail  to  answer  this  absurd 
charge." 

"  You  scoundrel !  You  double-dyed  scoundrel !  "  ejac- 
ulates the  other,  quivering  with  emotion.  "  Don't  you 
dare  to  speak  to  me,  or — or  I  will  choke  you." 

"  Don't  you  think  that  you  are  bringing  unnecessary 
scandal  into  our  family  ?  "  Greene  says,  coolly.  "  This 
charge  against  me  cannot  be  sustained.  I  was  lawfully 
in  possession  of  the  $600,  and  haven't  had  time  to  dis- 
charge the  errand  ;  but  I  have  no  intention  of  not  doing 
it,  and  the  only  complaint  that  can  be  made  is  breach 
of  trust,  wljich  is  not  criminal." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  181 

"  Ah  !  "  the  detective  says,  "  so  you  are  wanted  on 
another  charge — larceny.  This  is  only  for  bigamy,  Mr. 
Greene." 

"  Bigamy !  "  He  laughs  lightly,  but  flushes.  "  That 
is  absurd.  My  lawyer  will  soon  settle  that  charge." 

Brown  looks  at  him.  "  I  would  prefer  my  daughter 
dead  than  the  wife  of  such  a  vulgar,  common-place 
scoundrel  as  you  are.  But  alive,  since  she  must  live, 
I  prefer  her  to  be  married  rather  than  disgraced.  Is 
it  true  ?  Did  you  or  did  you  not  marry  a  woman  two 
years  ago  ?  " 

"  It  is  perfectly  true  that  I  married  a  woman,  but  she 
had  a  husband  living  from  whom  she  was  not  divorced. 
Our  marriage  was  illegal,  and  I  was  perfectly  free  to 
marry  Nellie.  My  friend  and  lawyer,  the  Hon.  William 
Smith,  will  settle  this  charge  in  two  minutes." 

"  Without  a  doubt,"  Jasper  says,  dryly.  "  As  he  is 
the  man  who  has  had  the  warrant  issued  for  your  arrest, 
and  as  it  was  his  first  wife  whom  you  married  two  years 
ago  as  soon  as  I  get  you  to  headquarters  I  will  send 
him  a  dispatch  saying  you  need  his  services.  Let  us 
hurry,  Mr.  Greene." 

As  the  two  men  left  the  room,  Brown  sank  into  a 
chair  and  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands.  "  My  Nellie, 
my  darling,"  he  murmured  as  his  emotion  mastered  him, 
"  would  to  God  that  I  might  die  to  spare  you  this  dis- 
grace !  "  Then  the  strong  man  gave  way  to  bitter  grief 
that  is  no  shame. 

"  Papa !  papa,  can  you  forgive  me  for  bringing  this 
sorrow  upon  you  ?  Do  not  drive  me  away  !  "  The  voice 
is  hardly  audible  for  the  sobs  that  convulse  the 
speaker. 

Nellie  is  kneeling  beside  him,  her  tears  flowing  fast. 


182  IT  IS  THE  LA  IF. 

He  opens  his  arms.  "  My  darling  child,"  he  says 
brokenly,  "  have  you  ever  had  reason  to  doubt  my  love 
for  you  ?  Have  I  ever  said  a  harsh  word  to  you  in  my 
life  ?  Have  I  ever  refused  you  anything  that  it  was 
proper  and  right  for  you  to  have  ?  Do  you  think  that 
now,  when  your  great  sorrow  has  come,  when  a  black 
cloud  has  rolled  over  your  young  life,  that  I  shall  with- 
draw the  love  that  has  been  yours  for  the  past  sixteen 
years  ?  Nellie,  my  daughter,  you  and  I  must  be  brave 
and  strong  to  meet  this  disgrace,  for  your  mother's  sake. 
It  has  nearly  killed  her." 

'  But,  papa,  is  it — is  it  anything  wicked  ?  I  should  be 
glad  never  to  see  him  again.  I  do  not  love  him  or  care 
for  him.  He  is  a  bad  man,  and  I  was  very,  very  wrong 
to  marry  him  without  your  consent ;  but  papa,  I  have 
been  his  wife,  these  past  few  weeks  ?  O,  papa,  don't 
tell  me  that  I  have  not !  " 

Her  piteous  entreaty  pierces  him  to  the  heart.  "  My 
child,  my  child,  what  can  I  say  to  you?  " 

"  But  papa,  I  must  be  his  wife.  The  court  discharged 
him  ! " 

"  My  child,  the  court  did  not  know  he  had  another 
wife  living.  If  he  had  been  "free  to  marry  you,  you 
would  be  his  wife.  But  he  was  not,  and  the  court  then 
thought  he  was.  He  met  his  wife  when  with  you  at 
Long  Branch  and  ran  away  from  her." 

She  shudders,  "  But,  papa,  he  told  me,  last  week, 
that  years  ago — he  did  not  say  how  many — he  married 
a  woman  who  had  a  husband  living  from  whom  she 
had  never  been  divorced,  and  that  he  left  her  as  soon  as 
he  found  it  out.  That  marriage  was  illegal  and  he  was 
perfectly  free  to  marry  me." 

"  My  child,  if  what  he  said  were  true,  he  had  no  right 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  183 

to  marry  you.  The  woman  he  married  might  have 
twenty  living  husbands,  but  he  was  a  married  man  until 
his  marriage  was  declared  illegal  by  a  court.  He  had 
no  right  alone,  by  himself,  to  declare  it  void  ;  only  a 
court  could  do  that.  A  husband  has  no  right  to  decide 
whether  his  wife  was  free  to  marry  him,  to  declare  she 
was  not,  and  then  to  lawfully  marry  some  one  else.  If 
he  could  do  that,  he  could  give  himself  a  divorce  when- 
ever he  pleased.  A  marriage  must  stand  till  a  court 
decides  it  to  be  illegal.  Not  all  courts  have  power  to 
decide  such  cases — only  the  higher  courts.  He  lied  to 
you  in  every  sentence.  He  married  that  woman  know- 
ing she  had  a  husband  living,  knowing  that  she  was  free 
to  marry  him,  and  knowing  his  marriage  was  valid. 
She  had  a  right  to  have  two  husbands,  but  he  had  no 
right  to  have  two  wives.  She  was  poor,  and  he  aban- 
doned her  and  married  you  because  he  supposed  you 
were  rich.  But  he  committed  bigamy.  He  had  a  law- 
ful wife  living." 

She  waits  a  minute.  "  How  can  that  be  ?  How 
could  she  have  two  husbands  and  he  only  one  wife  ?  " 

"  Jane  had  been  deserted  by  Smith  for  five  years  and 
was  free  to  marry.  If  Jane  had  deserted  Robert  Greene 
for  five  years,  without  his  knowing  her  to  be  alive,  your 
marriage  would  be  legal.  This  is  the  law.  But  Robert 
married  Jane  two  years  ago,  and  deserted  her  only  two 
days  before  he  married  you." 

"  Oh !  "     She  is  shocked  beyond  expression. 

"  And  I,  what  am  I  ?  "  she  asks  presently,  with  burn- 
ing cheeks.  "  I  have  been  travelling  with  him,  living 
with  him,  and  I  have  not  been  Ids  wife,  only — only — O, 
papa,  kill  me,  hide  my  shame  !  hide  my  shame  !  I  cannot 
live  and  bear  it." 


184  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

In  granting  the  warrant,  Judge  Barnes  had  attached 
the  affidavits  on  which  it  had  been  issued  and  had  made 
it  returnable  before  any  magistrate.  After  spending  the 
night  at  headquarters,  Greene  was  taken  in  the  morning 
to  the  Tombs  police  court.  Smith  and  Brown  appeared 
as  complainants,  and  Justice  Duffy  put  the  bail  at  $2,000- 
This  Greene  was  unable  to  obtain,  and  he  was  taken 
inside  the  jail  and  committed  to  the  care  of  the  warden. 
He  had  less  than  $20  in  his  pocket.  He  had  not  a  friend 
in  all  the  world  to  help  him.  In  the  middle  of  the  Pa- 
cific or  Southern  ocean  he  would  not  have  been  more 
alone  than  he  was  in  the  swarming  Tombs,  between 
Broadway  and  the  Bowery. 

Smith  telegraphed  to  Jane,  and  proceeded  energeti- 
cally to  gather  up  the  necessary  proofs  for  the  district 
attorney  and  grand  jury.  Jane  gladly  became  a  party  to 
the  prosecution,  which  was  entirely  in  her  interests.  Her 
application  for  divorce  from  Greene  did  not  in  any  way 
affect  her  claim  against  Smith.  It  was  no  admission 
that  she  was  not  Smith's  wife,  as  she  might  lawfully  be 
the  lawful  wife  of  two  or  twenty  men  ;  but  the  prose- 
cution of  Greene  for  bigamy  had  an  important  bearing 
upon  her  claim. 

The  section  of  the  law  under  which  Smith  had  re- 
married permitted  the  one  deserted  to  marry  again. 
It  did  not  permit  the  deserter  to  marry.  Both  had  re- 
married, and  one  or  the  other  of  the  marriages  must  be 
invalid,  as  she  looked  at  it — through  Stryker's  eyes. 

"  If  Greene  is  convicted,"  said  Stryker,  "  then  Smith 
is  the  deserter,  and  his  marriage  with  his  second  wife  is 
invalid — in  fact  it  is  bigamy  ;  but  we  cannot  prosecute 
him  for  the  bigamy  because  six  }'-ears  have  passed.  You 
become  his  only  lawful  wife.  If  Greene  is  acquitted, 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  185 

then  his  marriage  to  you  is  invalid,  and  you  have  no 
husband  but  Smith,  and  he  must  acknowledge  you  as 
such  and  give  you  the  place  you  are  entitled  to,  or  we 
will  drive  him  out  of  New  York.  Either  way  you 
win." 

The  indictment  was  found  promptly,  and  as  it  was  a 
jail  case,  which  must  be  tried  within  four  months,  both 
sides  pressed  for  an  immediate  trial.  Twenty  days  after 
his  arrest,  Greene  faced  a  jury  sworn  to  "  well  and  truly 
try  and  true  deliverance  make." 

There  was  little  for  the  jury  to  do  ;  there  was  much 
for  the  court.  Smith  had  arranged  a  compact  and 
straightforward  case.  The  facts  were  presented  with 
out  contest. 

The  defence  was  that  the  marriage  between  Jane  and 
Greene  was  invalid,  Mrs.  Greene  having  a  husband 
living.  It  was  admitted  that  she  did  not  know,  and 
had  not  known  for  five  years  that  her  husband  was  living ; 
but  she  had  deserted  her  husband,  Greene's  counsel 
asserted,  not  her  husband  her,  and  she  was  not  entitled 
to  remarry.  She  was  a  married  woman,  having  a  hus- 
band living  within  2  R.  S.  687,  §  8. 

This  was  easy  to  assert,  but  difficult  to  prove.  Neither 
Jane  nor  Smith  had  been  called  as  witnesses  for  the  pro- 
secution, and  it  would  have  been  suicide  for  the  defence 
to  have  called  either.  If  Greene  swore  that  Jane  de- 
serted Smith,  he  might  be  acquitted  on  this  indictment, 
if  the  jury  believed  him,  but  only  to  be  rearrested  for 
bigamy  in  marrying  Jane.*  He  was  between  the  devil 
and  the  deep  sea.  If  he  had  not  committed  bigamy  in 
marrying  Nellie,  then  he  had  committed  bigamy  in  mar- 

*  Both  parties  to  a  bigamous  marriage  are  equally  guilty  under  the 
Penal  Code,  provided  the  first  marriage  is  known.  He  admitted  that 
he  had  known  of  Jane's 


186  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

lying  Jane.  If  he  had  not  committed  bigamy  in  marry- 
ing Jane,  he  certainly  had  committed  bigamy  in  marry 
ing  Nellie.  He  had  committed  bigamy  with  one  or  the 
other.  That  was  perfectly  evident.  Greene's  cross- 
examination  showed  that  he  and  Jane  had  been  intim- 
ately acquainted  from  childhood,  and  that  he  had  learn- 
ed nothing  additional  concerning  her  first  marriage 
between  the  date  of  his  marriage  to  her  and  his  marriage 
to  Miss  Brown.  He  acknowledged  that  for  the  five 
years  preceding  their  marriage  she  had  lived  within, 
the  township  where  her  first  marriage  had  taken  place. 
Two  witnesses  for  the  prosecution  had  already  testified 
to  the  same  fact. 

He  had  no  witnesses  to  call,  and  the  defence  rested 
with  his  testimony. 

The  court  ruled  that  Mrs.  Smith  was  free  to  marry. 
"  Even  if  she  had  deserted  her  husband — of  which  there 
is  no  proof — she  must  have  returned  to  her  home — the 
home  of  her  childhood  and  the  home  her  husband  pro- 
vided for  her,  and  it  is  the  husband  who  absented  him- 
self during  the  five  years  preceding  the  second  marriage, 
which  is  all  we  have  to  look  to."  [Exception  taken.] 

"  Nor  do  I  see  how  it  would  help  the  defendant,"  re- 
marked the  Recorder  dryly,  "  to  prove  that  his  wife  had 
no  right  to  marry.  He  admits  that  he  has  been  acquaint- 
ed with  her  since  before  her  first  marriage  ;  that  he  was 
fully  acquainted  with  all  the  circumstances  relating  to 
it  ;  and  if  this  be  true  he  simply  interposes  a  plea  of 
guilty  of  bigamy  with  her."  [Exception  taken.] 

Greene's  counsel  had  been  assigned  by  the  court.  He 
understood  but  little  of  the  case,  and  took  still  less 
interest  in  it.  His  allegation  that  Mrs.  Smith-Greene 
had  deserted  her  first  husband  was  merely  in  the  nature 


IT  18  THE  LA  W.  1ST 

<  f  a  bluff.  He  had  no  other  possible  defence.  He  knew 
that,  with  Smith  and  Jane  iu  court,  neither  being  called 
upon  to  testify,  there  was  something  kept  back  by  the 
prosecution — but  he  did  not  care  particularly  what  it 
was.  Whether  his  client  went  to  the  state  prison  or  not 
was  a  matter  of  indifference.  He  knew  that  he  was  guilty 
of  bigamy  in  one  or  the  other  of  the  marriages,  that  he 
was  an  uninteresting  and  commonplace  criminal,  and 
he  preferred  that  he  should  go.  Had  a  swinging  fee 
been  in  his  pocket  it  would  have  been  a  different 
matter,  and  Greene  might  have  been  acquitted.  As  it 
was,  he  made  a  technical  defence,  did  all  that  could 
be  expected  of  a  lawyer  working  without  pay,  made 
an  excellent  case  on  which  to  go  to  the  Supreme  Court 
for  a  new  trial,  and  with  a  feeling  of  satisfaction,  heard 
the  jury  bring  in  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

The  court  imposed  a  sentence  of  four  years  and  six 
months,  and  the  "  gay  Lothario  "  from  the  backwoods  of 
Jefferson  Conuty,  who  had  overestimated  his  knowledge 
of  the  law,  found  that  he  had  to  pay  the  penalty  for  his 
ignorance — that  no  man  can  have  two  wives  in  the 
State  of  New  York  unless  he  goes  through  the  proper 
routine,  and  complies  with  the  easy  conditions  laid  down 
by  the  Court  of  Appeals. 

A  certified  copy  of  the  proceedings  in  the  criminal 
suit  was  made  a  part  of  Jane's  application  for  divorce, 
and  the  latter  was  immediately  granted.  This  practic- 
ally added  a  doom  of  perpetual  celibacy  to  Greene's 
sentence.  Upon  proof  of  "  uniform  good  conduct " 
after  five  years,  the  defendant  in  a  divorce  suit  may 
obtain  permission  to  marry  again,  if  the  plaintiff  has 
remarried.  But  no  court  will  accept  time  spent  in  the 
State  prison  as  "  good  conduct." 


188  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

When  Robert  Greene  is  released,  in  1890,  he  will  be 
a  married  man  without  a  wife.  He  will  never  be  able 
during  Jane's  lifetime  to  many  in  this  state  without 
committing  bigamy  again,  except  by  going  to  Kansas 
and  bringing  an  action  for  divorce  from  Jane.  If  he 
can  by  trick  or  device  lure  her  into  that  state,  and  serve 
the  papers  on  her  while  she  is  on  Kansas  soil,  he  may 
get  a  divorce  that  will  be  valid  in  this  state,  for  Kansas 
recognizes  as  one  of  the  causes  sufficient  for  divorce  the 
fact  that  the  defendant  has  obtained  a  divorce  against  the 
plaintiff.  It  is  the  only  state  that  provides  for  such 
cases. 

When  Stryker  handed  Mrs.  Smith-Greene  her  decree, 
he  advised  her  not  to  press  matters  for  the  present. 
Smith  was  a  candidate  for  re-election  to  the  Assembly, 
certain  of  nomination.  Stryker  was  a  candidate  for 
Congress;  and  his  nomination  was  very  doubtful.  If 
nominated,  his  defeat  was  probable  ;  but  he  was  ambi- 
tious for  the  nomination.  It  would  be  a  good  "  adverti- 
sement," and  worth  the  cost.  He  was  looking  to  the  no- 
mination for  the  State  Senate  in  1887.  Smith's  political 
influence  was  not  measured  by  his  office,  and  if  it  should 
be  actively  exerted  against  him  in  the  Congressional 
convention,  the  nomination  for  Congress  would  go  to 
another,  and  with  it  his  hopes  the  next  year  for  a  seat 
in  the  State  Senate.  It  was  not  good  politics  to  quarrel 
just  then  with  the  strongest  man  of  his  party  in  the 
Senatorial  district  and  the  "  boss  "  of  one-third  of  it. 

This  he  did  not  explain  to  Jane.  Nor  did  he  explain 
to  her  that  his  intention  from  the  beginning  had  been 
to  get  Smith  "  on  the  hip,"  and  then  sell  her  out  on  con- 
dition that  the  latter  should  assist  him  in  his  political 
schemes. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  189 

Instead  of  bringing  the  suit  anticipated  by  Smith, 
Stryker  sent  him  a  friendly  letter  informing  him  of 
Jane's  mind  and  what  she  required,  suggesting,  as  both 
were  lawyers,  that  a  conference  should  be  held  and  a 
full  understanding  arrived  at  as  to  the  facts.  It  was 
not  probable,  he  added,  that  there  would  be  any  dis- 
agreement as  to  the  law.  It  was  a  most  unfortunate 
entanglement,  and  if  he  could  use  any  influence  toward 
a  satisfactory  adjustment  it  would  give  him  the  greatest 
pleasure  to  do  so. 

To  this  Smith  replied  briefly,  accepting  the  proposi- 
tion, provided  a  third  party  should  be  added,  and  that 
any  subsequent  legal  proceedings  should  accept  the  find- 
ing as  agreed  upon  by  the  three  as  a  basis  of  complaint. 
He  submitted  six  names,  all  of  personal  friends  of  Stry- 
ker, any  one  whom  would  be  acceptable  to  him  as  the 
third  party. 

Stryker  accepted  the  modification  and  the  first  name 
on  the  list,  that  of  an  ex-judge  of  the  Supreme  Court. 

Smith's  action  was  to  prevent  any  attack  on  the  valid- 
ity of  his  second  marriage  by  a  suit  for  divorce  naming 
Mabelle  as  the  co-respondent.  The  conviction  of  Greene 
had  left  on  him  tlie  onus  of  the  desertion,  and  if  he  were 
the  deserter  he  had  not  been  free  to  remarry.  He  felt 
able  to  repel  any  assault,  but  he  did  not  wish  the  assault 
made,  for  he  knew  it  would  be  a  fierce  one  and  take  all 
his  strength  to  meet  it.  That  Mabelle  would  not  for- 
give such  an  aspersion,  nor  him  for  bringing  it  upon  her, 
he  accepted  as  a  fact. 

Skin  for  skin,  aye,  all  that  he  hath, 
A  man  will  give  for  his  wife; 

and   he  was  willing  to  fight  to  the  death  for  Mabelle : 
to  give  all  that  he  had,  both  skin  and  fortune. 


190  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

But  the  more  he  brooded  over  the  situation  the  more 
discouraged  he  became.  If  Mabelle  felt  toward  him  as 
lie  felt  toward  her,  there  was  nothing  to  fear.  But  this 
he  considered  impossible.  She  had  literally  become  a 
part  of  his  life.  That  he  was  more  to  her  than  a  dear 
friend  and  relative,  he  did  not  even  for  a  moment  imag- 
ine. That  she  would  be  willing  to  make  any  great 
sacrifice  to  retain  him  for  a  husband,  he  did  not  believe. 
Her  co"nfession  that  she  could  not  give  him  up  to  Jane 
carried  but  little  weight,  although  it  Avas  a  great  conso- 
lation, for  he  believed  that  it  had  been  in  part  wrung 
from  her  sympathies  in  a  moment  when  they  were  excit- 
ed by  his  own  distress.  That  she  had  been  married 
against  her  will ;  that  her  action  on  arriving  at  the  age 
of  consent  had  been  to-  repudiate  the  marriage  ;  that  she 
had  merely  submitted  to  force  and  the  inevitable  when 
beaten  in  her  effort  to  have  it  annulled ;  that  she  had 
seized  upon  Jane's  return  to  practically  set  the  marriage 
aside  ;  that  all  her  shy  affection  for  him  had  budded 
arid  bloomed  since,  with  Jane's  return,  he  had  ceased  to 
be  her  husband  and  become  only  her  uncle  and  guardian ; 
that  she  would  not  under  any  circumstances  willingly 
resume  the  old  relations;  that  any  attempt  on  his  part  to 
do  so  would  result  in  the  death  of  this  new-born  affec- 
tion so  precious  to  him  ;  and  that  any  chance  to  void 
the  marriage  and  make  permanent  the  relations  that 
now  sat  easily  and  lightly  must  necessarily  afford  her 
pleasure,  were  thoughts  that  came  to  him  hourly.  That 
she  loved  him  as  a  father  and  as  a  brother,  giving  him 
the  affection  that  might  have  been  theirs  had  they  lived, 
he  thoroughly  believed.  And  in  this  he  was  right. 
This  was  the  broad  base  of  her  love  for  him.  But  there 
was  more  than  foundation , 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  191 

Not  even  to  Frank  could  he  confide  any  of  his  feel- 
ings concerning  Mabelle,  beyond  his  brief,  "  Yes,  I  am 
hard  hit,  and  I  know  it.  Condemned  odd,  isn't  it,  for  a 
man  six  years  married  to  fall  in  love  with  his  wife  ?  " 
Of  Jane  he  talked  freely  ;  and  Frank's  two  weeks'  visit 
was  of  the  greatest  service  in  relieving  his  mind  of  the 
tension  put  upon  it. 

The  death  of  Robinson  from  disease  of  the  heart, 
superinduced  by  the  excitement  of  his  trial  and  the  sub- 
sequent affirmation  of  his  sentence  by  the  General  Term 
left  the  way  clear  to  the  re-marriage  of  Mrs.  Robinson. 

Mabelle  had  been  perfectly  right  in  her  diagnosis 
that  between  Frank  and  Fanny  it  had  been  a  case  of 
true  love  resurrected  after  twelve  years,  and  she  studied 
it  with  interest.  Frank  was  a  bold  wooer,  once  "  a  true 
bill  "had  been  found,  and  he  treated  Hymen  as  he 
would  a  judge — bringing  his  cause  at  once  to  trial  and 
urging  his  suit  with  all  the  eloquence  he  t  could  com- 
mand. Mabelle  and  Smith  formed  the  jury — and  it 
was  entirely  for  the  plaintiff — first,  last,  and  all  the  time- 
But  Fanny's  own  heart  made  the  strongest  plea  for 
Frank,  and  she  finally  surrendered  at  discretion.  On 
one  point  only  was  she  obstinate  ;  that  the  marriage 
should  not  take  place  for  a  year  from  the  time  Robinson 
had  procured  the  divorce  from  her.  At  first  she  had 
insisted  upon  a  year  from  the  date  of  Robinson's  death  ; 
but  finally  she  retreated  to  the  other  date,  and  there 
made  a  stand  which  nothing  could  shake. 

"•  Why  are  you  so  cruel  to  your  lover?  "  Mabelle  asks 
her.  "  Has  lie  not  waited,  have  you  not  waited  long 
enough  ?  " 

"  It  does  not  seem  decent,"  she  replied.  "  There  is  a 
strong  objection  among  some  people  to  any  remarriage, 


192  ins  THE  LAW. 

and  it  is  founded  on  common-sense.  But  at  least  some 
little  time  should -intervene,  and  a  year  is  short  enough. 
I  could  not  believe  it  was  marriage.  It  would  seem  like 
immorality  to  act  differently." 

u  You  are  perfectly  right,  dear,  and  I  honor  you  for 
it.  Without  doubt  the  custom  of  waiting  a  year  is 
founded  on  right  feeling.  I  remember  that  among 
some  people  there  were  laws  forbidding  the  marriage  of 
a  widow  within  twelve  months  of  her  husband's  death. 
But  in  this  day  and  generation  we  disobey  Solomon 
and  remove  the  ancient  landmarks.  The  world  believes 
in  the  polygamy  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  in  nothing 
else.  Solomon  and  his  seven  hundred  wives  it  under- 
stands, but  Solomon  and  his  wisdom  it  does  not." 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  custom  or  law ;  whether 
it  be  wise  or  unwise.  All  I  know  is,  that  I  must  have 
time  and  opportunity  to  forget  one  man  before  I  let 
another  kiss  me." 

Mabelle  laughs  softly.  u  There  are  few  women  like 
you  in  the  world,  Fanny.  As  a  rule  they  prefer  to 
sample  the  kisses  to  see  if  they  can  find  any  which  taste 
sweeter.  Frank  need  never  fear  that  you  will  have  a 
lover." 

"  I  should  hope  not."  Fanny  is  indignant.  She  does 
not  understand  the  "  higher  civilization  "  of  the  educated 
and  wealthy. 

Billy  rallies  Frank  good-naturedly  on  his  impatience. 

"  See  here,  old  man,"  he  says  to  him,  "  the  decision  is 
in  your  favor.  You  must  not  expect  to  see  the  case 
reported  and  bound  and  in  your  library  within  a  month." 

"  That's  very  well,  Billy ;  you  may  be  willing  to  wait 
a  year  before  you  marry  her,  but  I  am  not." 

u  How  about  Proserpine  ?  "  the  other  asks,  gravely. 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  193 

Frank's  face  pales  slightly.  His  lips  compress,  but 
no  word  comes. 

"  Would  you  not  have  been  willing  to  wait  years  for 
her?" 

"  Yes,  for  life,  if  her  love  had  been  mine  bej^ond  the 
pit.  But  she  is  dead  to  me  now.  She  died  last  sum- 
mer— that  night  when  your  words  made  me  realize  all 
that  she  was  to  me.  Don't  let  me  bring  up  the  old 
sorrow  and  the  old  fight.  I  went  into  court  the  next 
day  without  having  closed  my  eyes.  The  unsodded 
mound  is  still  high  over  the  grave  in  which  I  buried  my 
love." 

"  Then  wait,  Frank,  till  the  frost  and  snow  of  winter 
and  the  rains  of  spring  have  washed  it  down.  Let  it 
be  a  mark  of  respect  to  her  memory.  By  all  the  gods, 
if  I  were  to  lose  her — and  there  are  times  when  I  fear 
I  shall — I  should  never  many,  or  even  say  a  flattering 
word  to  another  woman  while  I  lived." 

"  She  loves  you,  Billy,"  the  other  replies,  quietly. 
"  I  feel  confident  that  you  will  not  lose  her.  I  was 
talking  with  her  the  other  day  about  Jane,  and  there  was 
something  in  her  face,  her  voice,  her  manner  when  she 
alluded  to  you  that  showed  me  you  were  the  only  man 
in  the  world  to  her.  More,  she  is  holding  back  some- 
thing abont  Jane  that  she  has  learned.  When  she  spoke 
of  her  there  was  pity  in  her  voice.  '  She  cannot  take 
my  husband  from  me,'  she  said.  'Her  fight  is  a  vain 
one.'  I  thought  at  first  it  meant  that  you  loved  only 
her,  until  I  saw  her  eyes  fall  on  an  open  letter  lying  on 
the  table,  and  a  gleam  of  triumph  come  to  them.  Then 
I  knew  that  she  was  fighting  to  keep  you,  and  that  it 
was  a  duel  between  her  and  Jane.  Trust  her,  Billy, 

trust  her.     I  have  more  confidence  that   she  will  bring 

13 


194  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

you  safely  out  of  all  your  trouble  than  I  have  in  any 
of  your  arguments." 

"  You  are  trying  to  comfort  me,"  Smith  replies  sadly. 
"  I  thank  you,  Frank,  and  if  I  could  believe  as  you  do 
I  would  have  no  fears.  But  the  question  resolves  itself 
into  this.  Mabelle  will  not  live  in  polygamy  with  me  or 
any  man,  nor  would  I  be  willing  to  have  her.  Nor  will  I 
live  with  any  woman  as  a  wife  except  her.  That  Jane 
is  my  wife  I  am  forced  to  admit.  Even  though  my 
second  marriage  is  legal,  and  I  believe  it  is,  it  does  not 
help  me.  Whether  I  live  with  Jane  has  no  bearing  on 
the  case.  I  might  pay  her  to  go  to  Australia,  but  that 
would  not  help  me  with  Mabelle.  She  will  never  be 
my  wife  until  Jane  is  dead — if  she  will  then.  Her 
nominal  bonds  of  marriage  may  never  be  broken — but 
her  affection  will  die  out,  there  will  be  talk  and  gossip 
and  scandal  that  will  kill  it.  I  have  ruined  her  life,  and 
when  she  appreciates  it  she  will  hate  me — as  she  once 
hated  me." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  that  Jane  is  your  wife  ? "  A 
peculiar  tone  in  the  voice  brings  Smith  to  his  feet. 
"  Mabelle  does  not  believe  it.  That  is  her  secret.  It 
is  upon  that  she  is  resting  her  case.  I  have  divined  it 
from  her  conversation." 

"  There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  Jane  is  my 
wife,"  Smith  replies.  "  If  Mabelle  is  trusting  to  such  a 
broken  reed  she  will  suffer  but  the  more.  She  has  been 
deceived  in  some  way." 

"  I  will  trust  her,"  Frank  says,  confidently. 

"  Then  for  once  you  will  be  beaten.  There  is  no 
escape.  It  is  the  law." 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  195 


CHAPTER  XII. 

She  openeth  her  mouth  with  wisdom, 
And  the  law  of  kindness  is  on  her  tongue. 

Prow.  xxxi.  26. 

FIVE  people  are  seated  in  Mabelle's  retreat.  For  some 
reason  known  only  to  herself  she  has  insisted  upon  the 
conference  being  held  there,  and  Stryker  assents  with- 
out regard  to  Jane's  objections.  Jane  mutely  protests 
by  refusing  to  remove  her  bonnet,  and  sits  upright  on  a 
sofa,  while  the  others  avail  themselves  of  the  comfort  of 
the  easy  chairs. 

"As  I  understand  it,"  ex-Judge  Dayton  is  saying, 
"  this  is  merely  a  friendly  meeting  for  a  clear  under- 
standing of  the  situation,  and  an  endeavor  to  arrive  at 
an  amicable  understanding,  if  that  be  possible,  which 
shall  satisfy  all  parties.  I  am  very  glad  to  see  such  a 
spirit.  In  a  large  percentage  of  cases  it  would  stop  all 
litigation,  and  I  am  willing  to  do  all  in  my  power  to 
foster  it.  But  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  see  that  I  get  my  rights — my  rights  as 
William's  wife,"  Jane  says,  rather  tartly. 

Dayton  bends  his  white  head  courteously. 

"  I  have  asked  you  to  act  as  the  adviser  of  all  parties," 
Smith  says,  a  little  wearily.  "  You  are  absolutely  with- 
out prejudice  or  favor,  and  on  matters  where  we  cannot 
agree  or  do  not  see  the  way  to  an  agreement,  a  word 
from  one  who  can  be  trusted  goes  far  to  bringing  about 
an  understanding." 


196  IT  IS  THE  LA  IF. 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  for  you  to  make  a  brief  state- 
ment ?  It  will  then  be  easier  to  build  the  facts  that  are 
not  in  dispute.  I  understand  the  general  facts,  but  we 
should  proceed  as  if  all  were  unknown." 

"  The  facts,  as  I  regard  them,  are  that  I  have  been 
twice  married — once  in  1874,  and  again  in  1880.  Both 
marriages  are  legal.  I  assert  that  my  first  wife  deserted 
me  in  1874;  that  I  spent  many  thousand  dollars  trying 
to  trace  her,  and  that  when  I  remarried,  I  was  fully  au- 
thorized to  do  so.  My  second  wife  is  entitled  to  have 
this  second  marriage  set  aside,  if  she  so  desires  ;  but  she 
does  not  desire  to  do  it — at  present,  at  least." 

"  If  she  had  any  sense  of — " 

Stryker  grasps  Jane's  arm  so  fiercely  that  the  latter 
stops  short. 

"  In  that  she  acts  wisely  and  properly,"  Dayton  says 
with  some  slight  emphasis.  "  She  is  placed  in  a  very 
unpleasant  position,  through  no  fault  of  her  own  ;  and 
the  law  very  justly  gives  her  absolute  power  to  control 
it." 

"  But  I  deny  that  she  is  his  wife,"  Jane  says,  fiercely. 
"  I  never  deserted  him.  He  deserted  me." 

"  Will  you  let  me  manage  this  case  ?  "  Stryker  asks 
her  sotto  voce.  "  If  you  wish  it,  I  will  resign  it  to  you. 
If  not,  you  must  keep  quiet." 

"Do  you  make  this  claim?"  Smith's  weariness  is 
gone.  He  is  active,  alert,  ready  for  battle. 

"I  am  sorry  to  say,  we  do,"  Stryker  replies.  "The 
conviction  of  Greene  was  based  on  the  implied  decision 
by  the  court  that  my  client,  having  been  deserted,  was 
entitled  to  marry  again.  The  deserter  had  no  right 
to  remarry.  That  privilege  is  given  only  to  the  one 
deserted.  We  therefore  hold  that  your  second  mar- 


IT  IK  THE  LA  W.  197 

is  not  lawful.  There  was  an  Indiana  divorce,  but  you 
concede  that  it  had  no  real  validity,  I  suppose,  since 
it  formed  no  part  of  your  statement.  From  the  time 
you  married  my  client,  in  1874,  she  has  lived  within  a 
few  miles  of  her  birthplace,  leaving  it  only  for  brief 
visits,  but  retaining  residence  within  the  township  where 
you  left  her.  Our  case  is  impregnable  in  that  respect. 
I  do  not  see"  where  you  get  your  right  to  marry  again. 
My  client  asserts  that  she  is  the  only  lawful  wife  you 
have." 

Mabelle  smiles  to  herself. 

"  I  think  you  are  misinformed."  Smith  controls  his 
temper  perfectly.  "  I  was  married  in  July.  We  lived 
together  until  September,  when  I  had  to  go  back  to  col- 
lege. The  rent  of  our  house  was  paid  up  to  September, 
1875.  I  left  my  wife  $135,  and  she  said  that  she 
thought  she  would  close  the  house  and  live  with  her 
parents  until  the  Christmas  holidays,  when  I  was  to  re- 
turn. In  October  I  sent  her  $40,  in  November,  $60, 
and  later  in  the  month  she  wrote  to  me  and  I  sent  her 
$150." 

"  You  sent  me  the  $60  in  October  and  the  $40  in  No- 
vember. I  wrote  for  more  because  $40  was  not  enough. 
You  sent  $25  3-011  did  not  mention,  in  September." 

"  This  was  the  last  letter  I  received  from  her."  Smith 
does  not  notice  Jane's  interruption.  "  I  wrote  regu- 
larly, every  week.  Just  before  the  Christmas  holidays 
one  of  my  letters  was  returned  by  the  postmaster, 
marked  '  Gone  away  ;  address  unknown.'  I  happened 
to  find  it  the  other  day.  Here  it  is.  As  soon  as  the 
holidays  came,  I  went  t<>  Ilidgeville  with  Frank  Brooks, 
and  we  found  that  my  wife  and  her  family  had  sold  off 
everything,  including  the  lease  of  my  house,  and  gone 


198  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

to  Philadelphia.  We  spent  two  days  searching.  Not 
one  of  her  friends  could  give  me  any  definite  informa- 
tion." 

"  It  was  none  of  their  business.  We  told  them  we 
were  going  to  Philadelphia  ;  but  we  went  to  Oil  City. 
Father  owned  a  farm  near  there,  and  he  had  creditors 
who  might  have  followed  him." 

"  The  next  June  I  went  up  there  again,  having  vainly 
advertised  for  her  address  in  all  the  Philadelphia  papers 
and  in  all  the  papers  published  in  Jefferson  County.  I 
spent  a  week.  Then  I  put  the  search  in  the  hands  of 
detectives.  Here  are  their  reports  and  bills.  They  are  all 
living  to  testify.  I  had  to  go  to  Europe  in  July,  with  my 
father  ;  but  the  detectives  worked  on  the  case  for  two 
years  before  they  gave  it  up.  They  followed  up  fifteen 
or  twenty  'clues'  and  advertised  in  more  than  that 
number  of  papers.  If  you  will  examine  these  papers 
and  vouchers,  you  will  see  that  I  spent  nearly  $5,000 
in  this  search.  I  submit  to  your  sense  of  fairness, 
Stryker,  whether  my  return  to  my  college  was  desertion, 
and  whether  a  man  could  be  expected  to  do  more  than 
I  did  to  find  a  lost  wife." 

"  When  did  you  return  from  Oil  City  to  Tipton  ?  " 
Stryker  asks  Jane. 

"  In  the  summer  of  1877.  When  I  found  out  that  you 
really  did  care  for  me,"  she  says  to  Smith,  "and  were 
searching,  I  wrote  twice  to  the  college  ;  but  you  did 
not  answer  me." 

"  I  did  not  get  your  letters,  Jane.  My  address  was 
not  known  at  the  college  in  1877,  and  your  letters  went 
to  the  dead-letter  office." 

There  is  a  ghost  of  a  smile  on.  Dayton's  face  as  he 
asks,  "  Well,  brother  Stryker,  what  is  your  opinion  ?  " 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  199 

'•  This  puts  a  different  face  on  the  matter,"  Stryker 
replies,  laying  down  the  last  of  the  papers,  which  he 
has  looked  through  carefully.  He  knows  when  he  is 
beaten  without  waiting  for  the  bystanders  to  tell  him. 
We  will  abandon  our  claim — we  must — that  the  second 
marriage  is  illegal," 

"  I  will  not,"  Jane  says  ;  "  my  husband  deserted  me 
when  he  left  me." 

"•  You  will  have  to,  madame,"  Dayton  says,  gently. 
Your  husband  had  a  right  to  leave  his  home.  He  left 
you  in  the  one  he  had  provided,  and  sent  you  money 
regularly.  You  sold  the  lease  of  his  home  and  his 
furniture  and  went  away  without  letting  him  know 
where.  No  lawyer  would  take  your  case  to  dispute  the 
fact  that  you  deserted  him.  He  was  not  required  to 
spend  one  dollar  in  searching  for  you." 

"  Well,"  Stryker  breaks  in,  cheerfully,  "granted  all  this 
there  can  be  no  dispute  that  my  client  is  now  the  first 
wife  and  lawful  wife  of  my  friend,  Smith.  The  ques- 
tion is,  what  does  he  propose  to  do  ? 

"  I  am  perfectly  willing,"  Smith  says,  with  some  bitter 
ness,  for  though  lie  has  saved  Mabelle's  honor,  he  feels 
that  he  has  lost  her  as  a  wife,  "to  pay  her  one-third  my 
income,  or  one-half,  or  whatever  may  be  satisfactory, 
provided  she  will  live  apart  and  at  least  one  hundred 
miles  away." 

"  I  will  never  consent,  never!"  Jane  is  hot  and  angry. 
"William  Smith,  I  am  your  lawful  wife.  I  insist 
upon  being  treated  as  such.  I  have  done  nothing, 
nothing  to  cause  you  to  put  me  away,  and  I  won't  be 
put  away  as  if  I  were  a  guilty  and  unfaithful  wife. 
You  shall  not  live  with  your  new  love.  I  do  not  want 
your  money.  I  want  my  rights.  T  have  done  nothing 
to  forfeit  them." 


200  IT  IS  THE  LA  W, 

"  You  forget,  do  you  not,"  said  Mabelle,*'  that  it  has 
been  conceded  that  your  marriage  to  Mr.  Greene  was 
bigamous,  and  that  }rou  can  be  prosecuted  for  bigamy  ? 
Felonies  can  be  prosecuted  within  five  years.  That  is 
your  present  position,  but  only  for  a  few  minutes  while 
the  case  stands  where  it  does  now."  It  is  Mabelle's 
first  word. 

"  I  am  willing  to  grant,  "  Smith  says,  "  that  for  the 
five  years  preceding  Jane's  marriage  to  Greene  I  had 
deserted  her.  I  hold  there  has  been  double  desertion,  first 
hers,  then  mine-— and  that  both  were  free  to  remarry." 

Jane  is  white  with  rage.  "  Do  you  dare  !  I  do  not 
believe  your  marriage  is  legal.  All  this  talk  is  bosh. 
No  court  will  declare  it  so.  My  husband  will  not  un- 
der oath  say  he  believes  it  is.  If  it  is,  why  did  he  get 
a  worthless  Indiana  divorce?  To  satisfy  his  conscience? 
Bah!  That  Indiana  divorce  is  the  key  to  the  whole 
controversy,  and  shows  that  all  the  talk  of  my  desertion 
is  humbug." 

"  Yes.  The  Indiana  divorce  is  the  key,  "  Mabelle 
says  quietly. 

"  Why  don't  you  bring  out  the  Indiana  divorce  ? 
Why  don't  you  make  him  explain  why  he  obtained  it, 
if  he  was  free  to  marry  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  the  Indiana  divorce,"  Stryker  replies 
to  her  demand.  He  has  a  vague  feeling  as  he  looks  at 
Mabelle  that  it  is  a  trap.  "  It  is  conceded  to  be  illegal. 
What  more  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  That  it  shall  be  thoroughly  investigated, "  says 
Jane.  "  In  it  will  be  found  the  proof  that  her  only 
claim  to  be  called  his  wife  rests  upon  it.  If  it  is  invalid, 
she  is  not  his  wife,  and  I  am  his  only  lawful  wife." 

"  And   if  you   were,  and  if  there  were  not  another 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  201 

human  being  on  earth,  I  swear  by  all  the  gods  that  I 
would  never  again  speak  to  you  while  I  lived,"  Smith 
says,  with  passion. 

Jane  cowers  and  is  silent.  She  likes  him,  in  her 
way,  and  his  words  give  her  a  pain  sharper  than  she  has 
ever  before  experienced.  They  are  the  first  unkind 
words  he  has  ever  spoken  to  her.  He  had  teen  so  en- 
tirely subject  to  her  will  in  the  old  days  that  she  did 
not  realize  that  any  change  could  be  possible — except 
temporarily  under  Mabelle's  influence. 

"  She  is  perfectly  right,"  Mabelle  says  to  Dayton. 
"  Nothing  that  has  thus  far  been  said  has  touched  the 
real  issue." 

"  Have  you  the  divorce  handy  ?  "  Dayton  asks. 

Smith  hands  it  to  him  and  he  scans  it  with  attention. 

"  This  is  a  waste  of  time,"  Stryker  remarks.  "  You 
admit,  Smith,  that  it  is  only  a  piece  of  waste  paper  ?" 

"  On  the  subject  of  this  Indiana  divorce,  I  wish  to 
appear  for  my  husband,"  Mabelle  says  quickly,  before 
Smith  can  reply.  "  I  will  prove  to  you  in  ten  minutes, 
Mr.  Stryker,  and  to  you,  Mr,  Dayton,  and  to  you,  Billy, 
that  it  is  a  perfectly  valid  divorce  ;  valid  in  every  state  in 
this  Union  and  wherever  comity  exists  among  nations." 

Dayton  looks  at  her  with  keen  interest,  Smith  in  per- 
fect astonishment,  Stryker  in  disgust.  The  latter  has  a 
very  low  opinion  of  the  female  intellect.  For  women  to 
meddle  in  legal  matters  or  in  questions  requiring  reason 
he  would  make  a  misdemeanor  if  he  could. 

"  It  will  be  admitted,"  she  continues,  "  that  if  the  In- 
diana Court  had  jurisdiction  over  three  things,  viz  :  the 
subject-matter,  the  person  of  the  plaintiff,  and  the  per- 
son of  the  defendant,  its  judgment  must,  under  the 
Federal  Constitution,  be  recognized  as  valid  by  every 


202  IT  IS  THE  LA  \V. 

Court  in  the  United  States.  Here  is  the  95th  volume 
of  the  Supreme  Court  Reports.  You  can  see  the  de- 
cision in  the  case  of  Pennoyer  vs.  Neff,  on  page  714." 

"  That  I  grant,"  Stryker  says,  testily,  annoyed  at 
what  he  regards  as  the  argument  of  a  pert  child  ;  "  but 
the  Court  had  no  jurisdiction  over  the  person  of  the  de- 
fendant— who,  it  is  admitted,  was  a  resident  of  New 
York — and  could  not  change,  modify,  or  alter  her  mar- 
riage relations  outside  the  State  of  Indiana." 

"  It  had  full  and  complete  jurisdiction  over  her  at 
that  time.  When  this  suit  was  brought,  and  when 
this  divorce  was  granted,  both  the  plaintiff  and  defend- 
ant were  not  only  residents  of  Indiana,  but  citizens  of 
Indiana,  and  of  the  same  county.'' 

Stryker  stares  at  her.  This  evidently  is  no  pert  child. 
Her  distinction  between  a  resident  and  a  citizen 
startles  him  into  recognition  that  she  may  be  different 
from  Jane. 

"The  defendant,"  she  continues,  in  the  same  cairn 
voice,  "during  the  year  1879  lived  at  Sabine,  in  the 
county  of  Marion,  having  removed  there  permanently 
from  New  York,  and  acquired  citizenship.  The  plaint- 
iff was  a  freeholder  in  the  same  county,  living  at  the 
county  seat,  Indianapolis,  a  few  miles  distant  from  the 
residence  of  the  defendant.  Here  are  his  tax  receipts  for 
that  year  and  the  preceding  and  following  years.  Here 
is  the  affidavit  of  the  Baptist  clergyman  that  the  de- 
fendant lived  at  Sabine  during  the  year  1879,  and  here 
are  her  receipts  for  the  money  paid  her  for  work  per- 
formed for  eight  residents.  Here  is  a  certified  copy  of 
her  affidavit  attached  to  an  application  for  an  appoint- 
ment by  the  School  Board,  in  which  she  swears  she  is  a 
citizen  of  the  State  of  Indiana  and  a  resident  of  Marion 
County. 


IT  IS  THti  LA  W.  203 

"  Is  this  true  ?  "  Stryker  asks  Mrs.  Smith-Greene, 
roughly. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  lived  there  during  that  year.  What 
has  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  "  Her  temper  is  rising 
again.  If  she  could  reach  Mabelle  with  her  parasol  she 
would  jab  her.  She  does  not  understand  the  points, 
only  that  this  sweet-voiced  woman  is  cutting  ground 
from  under  her  feet. 

"  It  has  a  great  deal,  as  you  will  find,"  he  replies,  as 
he  turns  to  listen,  no  longer  with  a  patronizing  air. 

"  Mere  residence  within  the  State  and  County  is  not 
enough  to  bring  her  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court, 
without  proof  of  sufficient  service  of  the  summons  and 
complaint  upon  the  defendant.  The  summons  in  this 
action  was  not  personally  served,  nor  was  it  nailed  upon 
her  door.  The  reason  why  was  because  her  residence 
was  unknown  to  the  plaintiff.  He  had  spent  $5,000  in 
searching  for  her,  as  you  already  know.  Here  are  the 
bills,  which  you  examined  a  few  minutes  ago,  for  adver- 
tising and  from  detectives  engaged.  They  were  part  of 
the  testimony  in  the  suit  for  divorce  to  show  how  dili- 
gently the  defendant  had  been  sought.  The  summons 
\vus  published  for  six  weeks,  in  the  six  leading  news- 
papers of  Marion  County,  and  the  complaint  was  filed 
with  the  county  clerk." 

"  That  is  not  sufficient  service,"  Stryker  says,  uneasily. 

Everything  has  been  so  perfect  thus  far  that  he  begins 
to  feel  there  is  danger  ahead. 

u  In  1851  the  Legislature  of  that  State  passed  a  spe- 
cial law — here  are  the  '  Session  La,ws  of  1851  ;  '  you 
may  read  it  for  yourself,  Mr.  Stryker,  on  page  135 — 
providing  that  in  suits  at  law  between  citizen*  of  the 
State  (residents  are  not  mentioned),  not  brought  t<>  iv- 


204  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

cover  real  or  personal  property  or  for  damages,  when 
the  defendant  shall  be  in  hiding,  or  when  the  defend- 
ant's address  shall  have  been  duly  and  diligently  sought 
and  not  found,  upon  satisfactory  proof  to  the  court  of 
these  facts,  judgment  by  default  may  be  entered  upon 
the  failure  of  the  defendant  to  appear  and  answer  after 
reasonable  publication  of  said  summons  in  two  or  more 
newspapers  of  the  county  wherein  said  defendant  re- 
sides, and  the  filing  of  the  complaint  with  the  clerk  of  the 
county.  '  This  publication  shall  be  deemed  and  adjudged 
the  same  as  personal  service,'  the  law  says,  ;  unless  fraud 
be  shown,  in  that  this  publication  has  been  kept  by 
trick  or  device  from  the  knowledge  of  the  defendant, 
or  unless  it  be  shown  that  the  defendant  was  not 
within  the  county  at  the  time  of  publication.'  This  is  a 
peculiarly  worded  law,  Mr.  Stryker,  and  it  was  passed 
many  years  ago.  I  do  not  understand  its  object  or  mo- 
tive ;  but  you  probably  will.  It  may  have  been  repealed, 
but  that  it  had  not  been  repealed  the  year  this  divorce 
was  granted,  is  evident  from  the  language  of  the  court 
in  the  case  of  Herman  vs.  Lee,  tried  the  next  year.  See 
page  398." 

She  passes  the  book  over  to  Stryker,  who  is  no  longer 
in  doubt  as  to  the  danger.  He  sees  it  clearly. 

Smith's  face  flushes  and  pales  with  emotion.  He  is 
saved — by  her,  as  she  promised  !  Now  he  understands 
not  only  her  words,  but  her  actions.  She  knew  that 
she  was  his  only  wife  and  that  Jane  had  no  claim.  More 
than  that,  she  has  given  herself  to  him  of  her  own  free 
will.  He  looks  at  her  with  tenderness  and  pride  strug- 
gling for  the  mastery. 

"  By  accident,  not  by  design,"  she  continues,  "  the 
plaintiff's  attorneys  conformed  in  the  minutest  particular 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W.  205 

to  the  requirements  of  the  law.  But  the  law  looks  only 
to  performance,  not  to  intention.  Here  are  six  succes- 
sive issues  of  the  Indianapolis  Weekly  Sentinel  contain- 
ing the  advertisement ;  here  is  the  affidavit  of  the  bus- 
iness manager  that  they  are  genuine  copies,  and  that  at 
the  time  the  defendant  was  a  subscriber ;  here  is  the 
affidavit  of  the  postmaster  at  Sabine  that  she  was  a 
member  of  his  club,  and  that  he  delivered  her  the  paper 
weekly  while  she  was  a  subscriber,  with  the  exception 
of  one  week  in  June,  when  the  advertisement  did  not 
appear  ;  here  are  the  other  papers  published  in  the  county, 
each  containing  the  advertisement,  and  the  affidavits  of 
their  publishers  that  it  ran  for  six  weeks.  There  can 
be  no  allegation  of  fraud  in  keeping  the  publication 
from  her,  nor  can  she  plead  absence  from  the  county, 
and  this  publication  must  be  'deemed  and  adjudged  the 
same  as  personal  service.'  '' 

Stryker  says  nothing  when  Mabelle  pauses.  He  has 
been  beaten  before,  but  never  has  he  been  beaten  so 
thoroughly  and  so  completely.  And  he  has  been  beaten 
by  a  woman  !  He  glances  from  the  books  she  has  handed 
him  to  her,  and  from  her  to  the  books.  He  cannot 
comprehend  it. 

"  How  did  I  know  that  I  was  the  Jane  Smith  adver- 
tised for  ?  When  I  read  it  I  supposed  of  course  that  it  was 
some  other  woman  of  my  name.  How  was  I  to  know  ?  " 
Jane  is  bitter  and  vicious  with  a  premonition  of  defeat. 
Mabelle  takes  no  notice  of  her  remark. 

"  You  will  grant,  perhaps,  Mr.  Stryker,  that  each 
State  has  the  right  to  decide  for  itself  by  what  means 
its  own  courts  shall  acquire  jurisdiction  over  its  own 
citizens  ?  If  not,  I  can — " 

"  I  will  grant  that ;  I  will  grant  the  personal  service  ; 


206  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

I  will  grant  that  the  divorce  is  perfectly  valid.  I  have 
been  deceived  about  the  facts.  I  have  been  deceived 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  this  case.  I  withdraw 
all  claims." 

"  I  do  not  see  any  other  course  left,  brother  Stryker," 
remarks  ex-Judge  Dayton.  "  Our  learned  sister-in-the- 
law  has  presented  the  case  with  such  judicial  fairness 
and  such  remarkable  lucidity,  that  no  exception  can 
possibly  be  taken  to  any  point.  During  my  eighteen 
years  on  the  bench  I  never  heard  from  so  young  a  pleader 
anything  approaching  it  for  brevity,  completeness,  ar- 
rangement, and  scope." 

As  he  probably  had  never  listened  before  to  so  young 
a  pleader,  the  compliment  was  not  so  broad  as  it  might 
seem  to  one  who  did  not  fully  apprehend  the  difference 
between  the  meaning  expressed  by  the  sound  and  that 
expressed  by  the  sense. 

"  This  is  a  surprise  to  you  ?  "  There  is  a  curious 
half-laugh  in  Stryker's  voice  as  he  turns  to  Smith. 

"  As  great  a  surprise  to  me  as  it  is  to  you.  I  knew 
nothing  of  Jane's  visit  to  Indiana  or  of  the  Indiana  law 
of  1851.  I  have  always  looked  upon  the  divorce  as 
invalid  and  never  thought  of  putting  it  in  bar." 

"  Your  wife  then  is  the  better  lawyer.  I  shall  be 
careful  hereafter,  in  taking  briefs  when  you  are  on  the 
other  side,  to  ask  whether  you  are  retained  alone  or 
whether  I  have  to  oppose  both  of  you.  Your  shingle 
should  read  '  Mrs.  and  Mr.  William  Smith,  Counsellors- 
at-Law.'  Mrs.  Smith,  I  offer  you  an  equal  partnership 
in  my  law  business.  It  is  the  only  way  I  have  of  show- 
ing that  I  bear  no  malice  for  defeat  at  your  hands." 

Mabelle  smiles  good-naturedly.  "  Do  not  quiz  me, 
Mr.  Stryker.  I  studied  the  marriage  and  divorce  laws 


IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

with  ex-Judge  Abbott,  •  when  a  school-girl ;  and  I  am 
glad  I  did,  for  I  have  saved  my  husband  and  my  peace 
of  mind.  But  I  know  no  other  law." 

"  How  long  have  you  known  of  this,  Mabelle?  "  Smith 
asks,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Ever  since  the  day  I  learned  of  Jane.  Do  you  think 
if  I  had  not  known  it  I  could  possibly  have — "  She 
flushes  up  and  does  not  complete  the  sentence,  but  picks 
up  and  arranges  the  scattered  books. 

All  except  Jane  understand  her,  and  they  feel  that 
she  is  indeed  "far  above  rubies."  A  silence  born  not 
of  admiration,  but  of  honor  and  respect  falls  upon  the 
group. 

Jane  breaks  it.  "  Will  you  please  explain  what  all 
this  means  ?  "  she  asks,  icily.  "  I  have  not  studied  law 
with  an  ex-judge,  and  I  do  not  see  that  any  explanation 
has  been  made  why  this  illegal  divorce  was  obtained.  I 
should  like  to  hear  my  husband's  reasons." 

"  It  means,  Mrs.  Greene,"  Dayton  says,  kindly,  but 
with  a  slight  emphasis  on  the  name,  "  that  we  find  the 
Indiana  divorce  perfectly  valid,  and  Mrs.  Smith  has 
shown  us  that  you  did  not  commit  bigamy  in  marrying 
Mi-.  Greene  ;  that  you  had  been  lawfully  divorced  four 
years  before  from  Mr.  Smith.  You  are  not  his  wife,  and 
you  have  not  been  since  1879.  You  have  no  claim  upon 
him — not  the  slightest.  Your  counsel  admits  it." 

"  But  /will  not  admit  it.  It  is  all  a  conspiracy.  You 
have  been  bought  with  her  money,"  she  turns  to  Stryker 
in  her  passionate  anger.  "  She  has  paid  you  to  let  her 
triumph  over  me.  But  she  shall  not.  I  will  have 
justice.  I  will  appeal  to  the  courts  and  to  the  world. 
You  have  sold  out  my  case,  but  the  world  shall  know 
you  for  the  fraricl  and  villain  that  you  are.  As  for  you, 


208  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

Miss,  you  may  rejoice  at  present ;  you  may  keep  your 
paramour  uncle  for  a  few  weeks ;  but  I  will  have  my 
revenge  on  you — and  I  will  have  my  husband." 

She  has  risen  while  speaking,  and  she  walks  to  the 
door,  which  she  opens,  but  turns  for  a  last  word. 

"  Willie  !  "  she  says,  "  Willie  !  "  There  is  no  trace  of 
anger  in  her  voice.  "  Remember  our  love  and  our 
vows  and  come  with  me.  I  am  your  wife  in  the  sight 
of  heaven." 

"  You  are  the  divorced  wife  of  Robert  Greene," 
Stryker  says,  coolly.  It  is  his  revenge  for  her  insult. 
"  I  will  go  with  you." 

And  he  does. 

When  the  door  closes,  Dayton  takes  Mabelle's  hand. 
"  You  must  not  let  anything  she  says  worry  you.  No 
lawyer  will  take  her  case.  No  court  will  give  her  judg- 
ment. She  sees  the  weakness  of  her  claim,  but  is  not 
willing  to  admit  it.  You  will  never  hear  from  her 
again.  She  will  talk,  but  she  will  be  afraid  to  act.  She 
may  bluster,  yet  she  knows  in  her  heart  that  her  defeat 
is  not  only  founded  in  justice  but  in  the  law." 

"  Yes,"  Mabelle  replies,  slowly ;  "  but  I  pity  her.  In- 
deed I  do.  I  would  be  a  sister  and  friend  to  her  if  she 
would  let  me.  My  triumph  has  brought  more  sorrow 
to  me  than  defeat  has  brought  to -her.  I  shall  never  be 
quite  happy,  for  I  cannot  forget  her  last  appeal. 

"  You  must  put  aside  all  such  morbid  thoughts,  my 
dear,  and  remember  that  it  is  not  you,  but  the  law.  If 
she  suffers,  it  is  her  fault,  not  yours  or  the  law's.  The 
law  is  holy  and  its  commandments  righteous,  St.  Paul 
says.  Pity  her  transgression,  if  )TOU  like,  but  do  not 
condemn  her  punishment.  That  would  be  wrong,  for 
it  is  the  law" 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  209 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

And  she  laugheth  at  the  time  to  come. 
Prov.  xxxi.  25. 

"  So  this  was  your  speculation !  "  Smith  says,  when 
the  door  closes  upon  Dayton,  and  husband  and  wife  are 
once  more  alone.  He  stands  by  the  small  table  looking 
at  the  neat  pile  of  books  and  the  envelopes  arranged 
and  numbered.  His  voice  is  low,  and  only  the  slow  and 
hesitating  utterance  betrays  his  emotion. 

"  Yes,"  she  replies,  with  a  little  smile  and  blush,  as 
she  seats  herself  in  a  small  rocker,  and  leans  back  look- 
ing at  the  grate,  her  hands  locked  behind  her  head. 
"  This  is  my  speculation.  And  I  have  won." 

She  glances  shyly  at  him  as  she  half  whispers  the 
latter  words. 

"  Do  you  know  what  it  means  ?  "  he  asks,  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  during  which  he  has  taken  her  seat  by  the 
table.  There  is  a  world  of  tenderness  and  of  sadness  in 
his  voice,  which  she  is  quick  to  catch. 

She  nods  slightly,  the  blush  deepening. 

"  You  have  burned  your  ships.  You  are  my  wife  for 
life.  Our  marriage  now  can  never  be  set  aside  or  an- 
nulled ;  nor  can  you  get  a  divorce.  I  had  no  other  wife 
when  we  were  married,  and  the  sins  of  my  youth  have 
been  condoned.  I  love  you  so  honestly  and  devotedly, 
Mabelle,  that  I  can  feel  no  selfish  joy  at  what  you  have 

14 


210  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

done  for  friendship's  sake.  My  heart  is  filled  with  a 
great  fear  of  the  time  that  will  come  when  you  will 
most  bitterly  regret  this  sacrifice ;  when  you  will  wish 
you  hjad  held  your  peac'e  and  left  a  door  open  through 
which  to  retreat.  Such  a  sacrifice  should  only  have 
been  given  to  one  you  love ;  and  you  will  yet  love 
some  one  with  your  whole  mind  and  soul — when  it  will 
be  too  late." 

He  looks  away  from  her,  at  the  ashes  in  the  grate. 
There  is  a  slight  flame  and  a  thin  spiral  of  blue  smoke 
from  a  small  piece  of  the  soft  coal  in  one  corner,  and  he 
forgets  not  only  the  pain  which  the  concentrated  bitter- 
ness of  the  last  five  words  reveal,  but  even  the  present, 
in  watching  it  and  wondering  how  long  it  will  last. 

She  comes  and  sits  down  on  his  knee,  leans  her 
shoulder  against  his,  puts  her  left  arm  around  his  neck, 
and  looks  him  in  the  eyes,  her  own  very  bright  and  her 
face  flushed. 

"  Look  in  my  eyes,  Billy.  Do  you  see  a  face  in 
them?" 

"  I  see  my  own." 

"  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  the  dearest  one  in  the 
world  to  me,  now  ?  that  no  other  ever  can  or  ever  will 
be  so  dear?  "  His  face  pales  and  then  flushes  in  a  wave  of 
color.  His  arm  around  her  waist  presses  convulsively ; 
but  he  does  not  interrupt  her — he  cannot.  "  The  love 
of  my  life  came  to  me  nearly  two  years  ago,  Billy,  and 
— and — it  nearly  broke  my  heart." 

Her  voice  catches. 

•"  And  all  for  nothing,  Billy,"  she  continues,  with  a 
half-laugh  and  sob,  "all  for  nothing.  I  thought  you 
had  another  wife — and — you  know  what  else  besides.  I 
could  not  share  you  with  them,  Billy.  I  shuddered  at 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  211 

your  caresses  because  they  were  not  mine,  nor  for  me ; 
but  only  lent  to  me  by  another  woman,  as  I  thought. 
And  my  heart  was  eaten  up  with  jealousy  and  anger 
and  wild  rage — until  that  day  you  brought  Jane.  Going 
down  to  Arnold's,  Fanny  told  me  of  the  year  Jane  lived 
in  Indiana,  and  tbat  night  at  the  Casino  you  said  that 
the  '  others  '  had  been  but  were  not.  I  cried  myself  to 
sleep  that  night,  not  from  joy  so  much  as  from  a  sense 
of  relief.  Do  you  remember  in  the  fairy  story  how  the 
faithful  Henry  puts  three  iron  bands  around  his  heart, 
and  when  the  peril  passes  they  break,  one  after  another  ? 
Two  of  the  bands  around  my  heart  broke  that  day, 
and  the  third  has  broken  to-night.  Tell  me  that  you 
love  me,  Billy,  and  no  one  else,  or  I  shall  die  of  shame 
for  saying  this." 

The  tears  are  in  his  eyes  long  before  she  has  finished. 
He  gathers  her  closely  to  him  as  a  mother  gathers  a 
child  that  is  in  pain,  and  her  last  words  are  almost  in- 
audible. 

He  does  not  answer  at  once,  but  his  labored  breathing, 
the  agitation  he  is  trying  to  control,  are  perfectly  satis- 
factory. When  he  speaks  it  is  with  a  sob. 

"  I  love  you,  Mabelle,  better  than  I  love  life,  and  as  a 
man  can  only  love  one  woman  in  one  life.  You  are  part 
of  me.  Your  thoughts  are  my  thoughts,  your  wishes 
my  wishes,  and  your  life  my  life.  Your  nature  has 
become  so  blended  with  mine  that  I  could  not  do  of 
my  own  volition  what  you  would  not  do  of  yours. 
The  past,  dear  heart,  is  a  dream,  a  bad  dream,  and 
the  present  is  a  new  life  for  me — even  without  your  love 
— which  is  something  I  cannot  apprehend  as  yet,  it  is  so 
unexpected.  My  joy  and  my  happiness  are  in  my  love 
for  you,  not  in  your  love  for  me.  This  is  a  pre- 


212  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

cious  and  a  sacred  trust ;  but  I  could  be  happy  with- 
out it.  You  are  sure,  very  sure,  that  you  love  me,  Ma- 
belle?  It  seems  so  odd  that  you  should.  I  am  nothing 
like  the  hero  of  your  dreams,  dear — rather  the  villain 
that  you  fly  from." 

"  This  is  not  much  like  flying  from  you,  is  it  ?  "  she 
asks,  as  her  arm  around  him  clings  with  gentle  pressure. 
"  Do  you  know  I  am  so  happy  here,  against  your  heart, 
that  if  I  had  my  will,  I  should  never  be  anywhere  else 
except  when  you  put  me  away  by  main  force  ?  " 

She  looks  up  frankly  and  honestly  into  his  face,  and  he 
bends  and  kisses  her  lips  tenderly. 

"  I  want  you  to  feel  the  same  confidence,  Billy,  in  my 
love  for  you  that  I  feel  in  your  love  for  me.  We  speak 
inaccurately,  to  call  it  love.  I  understand  you  ;  and  to 
know  that  your  joy  and  happiness  are  alone  in  your 
love  for  me,  is  the  only  proof  I  want — the  only  proof 
there  is — that  it  is  the  crowning  and  life  love  ;  not  the 
love  that  arises  through  the  sense,  but  that  which  is 
deep  rooted  in  the  intellect — a  flash  of  the  same  fire  that 
makes  heroes  and  martyrs  for  opinion's  sake  and  finds  its 
complete  fruition  and  satisfaction  in  the  love  of  truth, 
miscalled  the  love  of  God.  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  you 
would  love  some  one  like  me,  and  that  it  would  be  the 
love  of  your  life  ?  " 

*'  Like  you  !  Like  you  ! "  he  says,  reproachfully. 
"  Nay,  dear  heart,  my  love  was  to  be  old  and  thin  and 
homely  ;  and  you — are  young  and  beautiful  and  lovely." 

"  To  you,  Billy,  because  you  see  beyond  the  covering. 
You  see  with  your  spiritual  eyes  and  that  spiritualizes 
me.  But  I  did  not  say  what  she  would  seem  to  you, 
only  to  others.  We  will  grow  old  and  gray  together, 
but  you  will  never  know  any  change  in  me,  nor  I  in 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  213 

you,  '  my  jo,  Bill.'  I  don't  think,  Billy,  you  will  ever 
quite  understand  all  that  this  is  to  me." 

"  And  you  will  never  regret  the  price  you  paid — out 
of  your  own  money,  too,  you  know  ?  I  shall  never  pay 
back  a  cent."  The  words  are  light,  but  the  tone  is  full 
of  the  deepest  feeling. 

"  I  would  have  spent  every  dollar  I  am  worth — and 
every  dollar  you  are  worth  also — to  know  that  you  were 
all  mine  and  that  no  other  woman  had  a  claim,  legal 
or  moral,  on  you.  I  have  lived  in  the  shadow  of  Jane 
for  two  years.  The  thought  that  you  had  another  living 
wife  has  been  a  nightmare — sleeping  and  waking.  It 
has  robbed  me  of  every  pleasure  in  life.  It  has  made 
me  at  times  insane  in  my  jealousy  and  ready  to  adopt 
any  evil  suggestion.  Her  appearance  in  the  flesh,  with 
the  announcement  that  she  had  no  claim  on  you  and  was 
the  lawful  wife  of  Robert  Greene,  which  I  got  from 
Fanny's  first  words,  gave  me  my  first  hours  of  happiness 
in  your  love." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  Why  did  you  keep  the 
secret?" 

"  Because  I  wanted  to  be  sure  of  your  love  for  me.  I 
wanted  to  see  if  Jane  had  any  power  over  you.  She  is 
beautiful  in  the  flesh — the  type  of  sensuous  loveliness. 
If  she  had  power  to  draw  you  to  her  I  did  not  want  your 
love.  I  preferred  religion  and  high  fashion  and  a  bro- 
ken heart  to  a  husband  and  a  husband's  love  not  all  my 
own.  And  when  I  knew  she  had  no  power,  and  that 
your  heart  was  mine,  and  mine  alone — not  Jane's  nor 
another's — I  wanted  to  give  you  something — the  one 
wife  of  your  life.  Are  you  sorry  I  have  ?  " 

"  I  have  only  one  regret,"  he  says,  with  emotion,  "and 
it  is  that  I  cannot  thank  sonic  supernatural  being  for 


214  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

this  blessing.  I  do  not  wonder  at  the  tenacity  with 
which  the  ignorant  and  vicious  cling  to  the  idea  of  a 
personal  God  to  whom  they  can  give  thanks  for  the 
happiness  they  do  not  make  for  themselves  and  do  not 
deserve.  I  feel  as  if  I  must  thank  some  one.  We  lose 
much  when  we  give  up  our  belief  in  fairies  and  gods.  It 
has  often  been  a  sorrow,  but  never  so  keen  as  now.  I 
feel  as  if  I  would  like  to  pour  out  my  soul  in  thanks- 
giving." 

"  That  is  merely  the  '  old  Adam '  of  your  inheritance," 
she  replies,  as  she  takes  his  hand  and  lays  it  on  her 
cheek.  "  Leave  such  thoughts  where  they  belong — to 
the  criminal  classes  and  the  lunatics — and  thank  your- 
self and  only  yourself.  No  one  receives  a  blessing  he 
does  not  deserve,  nor  a  joy  he  has  not  made  for  himself. 
You  are  better  than  all  the  gods  ever  created  in  the 
mind  of  man,  and  deserve  more.  There  might  be  a  per- 
sonal Devil,  for  our  misfortunes  often  are  not  our  fault ; 
but  a  personal  God  is  contrary  to  reason  and  revelation. 
The  Master  was  right,  Billy.  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
is  within  us,  not  above  us,  and  when  we  receive  in  our 
hearts  the  spirit  of  Truth,  the  Comforter,  we  are  like 
your  old  friend  Prometheus,  whom  the  gates  of  hell 
could  not  prevail  against.  Have  you  forgotten  the 
Greek  theology,  in  which  you  so  delight,  that  you  would 
thank  the  enemy  of  mankind  for  a  good  gift  ?  Go  to, 
Billy,  go  to.  If  he  should  give  it,  it  would  be  for  a 
wicked  purpose.  We  should  fear  the  gods  who  bring 
gifts." 

He  takes  her  face  between  his  hands,  and  kisses  her 
eyes  and  lips. 

"  You  cannot  tempt  me,  my  heart's  delight,  into  any 
discussion  that  will  carry  me  away  from  this  subject  of 


IT  IS  THE  L'AW.  215 

which  my  heart  is  full.  The  bait  is  tempting  to  a  hun- 
gry fish;  but  I  am  not  a-hungry.  Your  theology  is 
put  forward  to  be  combatted,  not  defended.  What  for  ?  " 

"  So  that  I  can  lie  here  in  your  arms  and  hear  you 
talk.  You  are  not  hnngry,  Billy.  But  just  think  how 
hungry  I  must  be!  I  am  your  wife,  at  last;  your  one, 
true,  lawful  wife,  except  in  Illinois.  And  for  two  years 
I  have  not  had  the  loving  of  a  wife— only  of  a  leman. 
It  has  been  my  own  fault,  of  course,  for  I  have  been 
your  wife ;  but  I  did  not  know  it — nor  did  you,  Billy." 

Never  more  need  she  be  stayed  with  flagons  nor 
comforted  with  apples. 

"  What  did  you  mean  by  not  being  my  wife  in  Illi- 
nois?" he  asks,  presently. 

She  reaches  to  the  table  and  hands  him  a  folded 
paper. 

"  This  is  something  I  thought  best  not  to  mention  to 
Mr.  Stryker." 

He  opens  the  paper,  glances  over  it,  and  smiles. 

"  For  the  sake  of  your  reputation  as  a  lawyer,  I  am 
glad  you  did  not,"  he  remarks.  "This  is  something 
which  you  could  not  make  valid,  little  one,  if  you  had 
the  wealth  of  the  Indies.  I  acknowledge  that  you  are 
the  better  lawyer  on  divorce,  but  here  you  have  me  on 
my  pet  study  of  jurisdiction.  Did  you  expect  to  hum* 
bug  me  with  it  ?  " 

"  And  is  it  not  valid — in  Illinois  ?  " 

He  laughs  softly.  "  You  haven't  read  it,  Mabelle.  It 
is  granted  by  a  justice's  court.  The  form  is  all  right, 
the  seals  are  here,  and  the  signatures  maybe  genuine. 
But  you  know  that  such  a  court  has  no  jurisdiction  in 
divorce  suits.  Jurisdiction  over  the  person  may  be 
waived.  But  jurisdiction  over  the  subject-matter  can- 


I'll.  IT  IS  THE  LAW. 

not  be  waived.  No  agreement  that  may  be  made  by  the 
parties  to  a  suit  will  give  a  court  power  to  decide  a  case 
which  the  law  does  not  give  it  jurisdiction  over.  This 
is  one  of  those  '  bogus  '  divorces  that  lawyers  who  adver- 
tise get  for  their  clients.  They  are  all  frauds,  without 
an  exception.  Usually  the  decrees  are  forgeries,  made 
in  their  offices.  Sometimes  one  of  these  swindlers  will 
make  an  arrangement  with  some  western  justice,  who 
has  no  right  to  grant  divorces,  to  sign  his  name  and 
attach  his  court  seal.  They  usually  charge  from  $30  to 
$100  for  this  worthless  bit  of  paper.  What  did  you 
pay?" 

"  Nothing.  Mark  Mann  sent  it  to  me.  Just  before 
we  left  Chicago  he  and  I  were  talking  about  the  way  they 
were  granted  in  Illinois.  He  said  he  could  get  one  in 
ten  days  for  anybody.  As  you  had  one  I  thought  I 
might  as  well  have  one — it  might  come  in  handy  some 
time.  So  I  said  I  would  like  to  have  the  proof,  to  show 
my  friends.  We  left  the  next  day  for  New  York,  but 
it  came  by  mail  within  the  ten  days.  It  appears 
regular." 

"  Yes.  The  only  thing  lacking  is  the  jurisdiction  of 
the  court.  Incalculable  misery  is  caused  by  the  sharks 
who  furnish  the  unsuspecting  applicant  with  these  di- 
vorces. They  have  no  validity  whatever.  People  who 
marry  again  on  the  strength  of  them,  usually  find  them- 
selves in  Sing  Sing  for  a  term  of  years  as  the  result. 
Mann  ought  not  to  have  smirched  himself  by  even  a 
speaking  acquaintance  with  one  of  these  wretches. 
Suppose  you  had  never  learned  anything  about  the  law, 
and  had  desired  to  take  advantage  of  the  divorce,  it 
might  have  ruined  your  life." 

She  does  not  tell  him  of  her  temptation,  either  now 
or  at  any  future  time.     The  dead  past  buries  its  dead. 


IT  IS  THE  LAW.  217 

But  a  shiver  runs  through  her  at  the  thought  of  what 
she  has  escaped  by  the  skin  of  her  teeth. 

"  I  have  some  news  for  you,"  she  says,  "  now  that  I 
am  sure  it  will  not  distress  you.  Nellie  and  Dick  were 
married  at  Garrison's  the  day  before  yesterday,  and 
have  gone  to  Washington  to  spend  their  honeymoon. 
Aren't  you  sorry?"  Her  gayety  is  tempered  still  by 
the  thought  of  what  might  have  happened. 

"  For  Dick  ?  "  he  asks,  with  such  a  world  of  meaning 
that  she  colors  a  little.  "  Where  shall  we  spend  ours  ?  " 
he  whispers. 

The  color  deepens  on  her  face,  but  she  puts  both 
arms  around  his  neck  and  whispers  bravely:  "Here, 
Billy,  where  Love  has  come  to  us.  Let  us  hope  it  shall 
last  our  life." 

She  takes  the  Chicago  decree  from  the  table  and 
stoops  down  to  the  grate,  searching  for  a  small  coal. 
When  it  is  found  and  broken  open  she  places  the  pa- 
per on  the  flame  that  dances  up,  and  she  waits  until 
nothing  remains  but  a  black  cinder. 

Her  husband  stands  watching  her.  He  understands, 
perhaps,  more  fully  than  she  dreams  of,  what  that  act 
means.  When  she  rises,  he  opens  his  arms  and  she 
glides  within  them. 

A  few  weeks  later  the  following  appeared  in  The 
World,  under  its  ridiculously  and  inaccurately  worded 
marriage  notices  : 

STRYKER-GREENE — On  Thursday.  Nov.  18.  by  the 
Rer.  Dr.  Snooks,  of  St.  Timothy  the  Apoitle. 
CHARLES  EDWARD  STUTKEB.  of  this  city,  to  Mrs. 
JANE  GREENE  (net  WILLIAMS),  of  Tipton,  N.  Y.. 
at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Peter  Stryker,  4004  West 
49th  st. 

The  early   delivery   brings   Smith   this   letter  from 

Jane's  third  husband  : 


218  IT  IS  THE  LA  W. 

MY  DEAR  SMITH  : 

What  you  have  done  to  secure  my  nomination  and  election  should 
be  repaid  in  something  better  than  words.  I  have  married  Jane,  and 
she  will  trouble  you  no  more.  Are  we  quits  ? 

Yours  sincerely, 

C.  E.  STRYKER. 

At  the  breakfast-table  Smith  hands  both  the  paper 
and  the  letter  to  Mabelle,  without  a  word.  She  looks 
at  him  a  little  curiously,  but  with  no  shadow  of  doubt. 

He  laughs.  "You  are  thinking  of  what  I  said  of 
Greene — '  the  fly  in  the  ointment ' — are  you  not  ?  I  will 
say  of  Stryker,  '  His  lips  are  as  lilies,  dropping  liquid 
myrrh.'  " 

"  Since  when  have  you  been  reading  the  wisdom  of 
the  son  of  Bathsheba  ?  "  Mabelle  asks,  with  a  smile. 

"  Since  the  vine  hath  budded,  and  its  blossoms  have 
opened ;  since  the  pomegranate  hath  flowered,  and  thou 
hast  given  me  thy  love,  my  beloved,"  he  replies. 

Here  let  us  leave  them,  while  in  the  web  of  life  they 
hold  the  thread  that  makes  for  righteousness,  and, 
under  subjection  to  the  law  of  their  minds,  they  choose 
good  and  not  evil,  not  because  of  any  preference  for 
one  over  the  other,  but  because  it  is  the  law. 


THE   END. 


: 


